Columbia  (Bntottfitp 

THE  LIBRARIES 


Bequest  of 
Frederic  Bancroft 

1860-1945 


/ 


A  FRONTIER  LIFE 


BEING   A 

DESCRIPTION    OF   MY   EXPERIENCE 

ON  THE  FRONTIER  THE  FIRST 

FORTY -TWO    YEARS    OF 

MY  LIFE 


WITH 

SKETCHES    AND    INCIDENTS    OF    HOMES    IN 

THE    WEST;     HUNTINCx    BUFFALO    AND 

OTHER  GAME;  TROUBLE  WITH  THE 

INDIANS,   AND  MY  EARLY  WORK 

IN  THE  MINISTRY 


BY 

Rev.  Charles  Wesley  Wells 

Of  the  Nebraska  Conference 


(   ;  N :i'i  W'NA  II  : 

ruE s $  '3  :    ;  i  a  to  i  \ < i  s  &  pye 


4 
V 


J3f.  £ 


Copyright  by 

C.    W.    WELLS 

Ong,  Nebraska. 

1902. 


3  C  33o 


TO 

MY  WIFE  AND  CHILDREN, 

WHO,    WITH  ME, 

HAVE  BORNE   THE   TRIALS  AND  HARDSHIPS 

OF  A  FRONTIER  LIFE, 

IS    THIS  BOOK  DEDICATED. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


INTRODUCTION 

In  giving  this  little  sketch  to  the  public,  I 
shall  endeavor  to  give  a  brief  description  of  the 
hardships  and  trials  of  frontier  life.  Speaking 
largely  of  my  experience  and  trials  with  the  In- 
dians in  different  localities  where  I  have  lived, 
I  shall  also  give  some  amusing  accounts  of  hunt- 
ing the  buffalo,  wolves,  and  other  wild  animals 
on  the  plains,  including  my  trials  and  hardships 
in  the  ministry  while  laying  the  foundation  for 
Methodism  and  righteousness  in  new  and  un- 
cultivated fields. 

In  describing  life  and  scenes  among  the  wilds 
of  the  West,  I  shall  strive  in  every  particular  to 
give  the  facts.  Some  of  the  material  I  have  gath- 
ered is  from  other  parties,  who  were  eye-wit- 
nesses to  what  they  have  related  to  me. 

In  giving  my  own  experience  with  the  sav- 
ages, I  may  make  some  mistakes,  though  I  relate 
what  I  think  to  be  correct. 

5 


6  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

The  reader  must  be  aware  that,  after  the  lapse 
of  so  many  years,  I  may  forget  some  particulars 
of  the  events  I  undertake  to  describe.  So  if  any 
of  my  readers  should  discover  an  incorrect  state- 
ment in  this  little  record,  they  may  know  that  I 
was  misinformed  or  that  my  memory  is  at  fault. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PACK 

My  Birth — Move  to  Illinois — Move  Back  to  Iowa — 
Experience  in  the  Big  Woods  of  Cedar — Fright- 
ened by  Indians, 13 


CHAPTER  II 

Move  to  Kansas— Hunting  the  Buffalo— Our  Home 
on  the  Kansas  Plains— Description  of  the  Buf- 
falo and  Other  Animals— Father  Chased  by 
Indians— Other  Things  of  Interest, 25 


CHAPTER  III 

Move  to  Nebraska— Move  to  the  Big  Blue  River— Our 
House— Hunting  Elk— Experience  with  the  In- 
dians—The First  Religious  Meetings  on  the 
Blue  Valley  in  Butler  County, 60 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  General  Slaughter  of  the  Settlers  on  Tittle 

Blue  Riyer  in  1864 70 

7 


8  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  V 

PAGE 

Thrilling  Incidents  of  the  Indian  Massacre — A  Man 
Killed  not  far  from  Fort  Kearney — Martin 
and  His  Boys  Wounded— Father  Eubanks  and 
Boy  Killed— Bill  and  Miss  Eubanks  Killed— 
Mrs.  Eubanks  and  Miss  Roper  Taken  Prisoners- 
Theodore  Eulic,  Joe  and  Fred  Eubanks  Killed 
— Kennedy,  Butler,  and  Kelley  Murdered,  and 
Other  Depredations, 95 


CHAPTER  VI 

Our  Trip  up  the  Little  Blue  River  after  the  Raid- 
Some  Remarks  on  the  Way  the  Government 
Controls  the  Indians, 121 


CHAPTER  VII 

Our  Trip  to  the  Black  Hills— A  Fight  with  the  In- 
dians at  Plum  Creek— Frightened  at  General 
Custer's  Command— Crossing  the  Platte  River — 
Work  at  Julesburg — Keeping  Boarding-tent  for 
the  Railroad  Men— Making  Lime  in  the  Hills- 
Frightened  by  the  Indians— Return  Home,    .    .  138 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Frontier  Work  in  the  Ministry— Call  to  the  Minis- 
try—My First  Appointment — Removed  to  Red 
Cloud— My  First  Trip  to  Red  Cloud— Organiza- 
tion of  the  First  Class  on  the  Red  Cloud  Cir- 
cuit—Moving to  Red  Cloud— Camp  under  a  Bush, 
and  pull  Grass  for  a  Bed— Experience  on  the 
Charge, 182 


CONTENTS  9 

CHAPTER  IX 

PAGE 

Off  to  Conference  again— The  Great  April  Snow- 
storm—Appointment to  the  Lyons  Circuit— My 
Trip  to  the  Charge — My  Second  Marriage — 
Work   on  the   Charge, 215 


CHAPTER  X 


Moving  to  Norfolk — Turned  out  of  Doors  by  a 
Brother  in  the  Church— The  Death  of  Our 
Babe— Living  in  the  House  with  a  Bad  Family— 
The  Grasshoppers  again— The  Fuel  we  burned 
—Drawing  Wood  by  Hand— Our  Presiding  Elder 
goes  East  and  solicits  Aid  for  the  People — Our 
Work  in  the  Harvestfield — I  go  to  Conference 
— Ordained  Elder — Return  to  Norfolk — Our 
Experience  on  the  Charge  the  Second  Year,    .  236 


CHAPTER  XI 

Settling  at  Oakdale  —  Routed  from  Bed  at  a 
Brother's  House— Preached  at  O'Neill  City, 
Holt  County— A  Trip  up  the  Elkhorn  with 
Brother  Wolf— Turned  out  into  the  River- 
Tumor     REMOVED     FROM     MRS.    WELLS'S     BREAST— 

Move  to  Albion,  Boone  County,  and  Experience 

THERE, 265 


CHAPTER  XII 

Move  to  the  Farm— Build  Our  Own  House— Work  on 
the  Farm— Go  to  Conference— Go  Home  with  a 
Drunken  Woman — Return  to  the  Pastorate — 
Appointed  to  the  Schuyler  Circuit  and  Work 
there— lose  another  child— overflowing  of 
the  Platte  River, 288 


A  FRONTIER  LIFE 


CHAPTER    I 

My  Birth  — Move  to  Illinois  — Move  Back  to  Iowa— Ex- 
perience in  the  Big  Woods  of  Cedar — Frightened 
by  Indians. 

I  was  born  on  the  28th  day  of  June,  1841,  in 
Johnson  County,  Iowa,  not  far  from  Iowa  City. 
At  that  time  this  part  of  Iowa  was  very  new  and 
sparsely  settled.  While  I  was  yet  a  child  my 
folks  moved  to  Illinois,  but  remained  there  only 
a  few  years.  In  the  year  1852  my  father  moved 
to  the  northern  part  of  Iowa,  and  located  in 
Chickasaw  County,  where  he  rented  what  was 
called  a  double  log-house,  which  had  been  used 
as  an  Indian  trading-post,  and  here  we  spent 
part  of  the  winter.  There  being  no  school  within 
reach  of  us,  we  boys  spent  much  of  our  time  in 
hunting  through  the  woods  and  over  the  prairies 
for  the  wild  deer,  turkey,  prairie-hen,  and  rabbit. 

We  lived  about  one  mile  from  the  woods, 
where  we  got  fuel  for  the  house,  which  was 
drawn  on  hand-sleds  that  we  boys  made  with  our 
own  hands.  Sometimes  we  were  half  a  day  mak- 
ing the  trip;  but  there  being  some  four  or  five 

13 


14  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

of  us  together,  we  brought  plenty  of  wood  to 
keep  the  fire  going. 

On  coining  to  this  part  of  the  country,  father 
laid  claim  on  a  piece  of  Government  land  in  what 
was  called  the  Big  Woods  of  Cedar.  Notwith- 
standing the  exceedingly  cold  weather  at  that 
time,  father  concluded  to  move  out  to  his  claim 
in  the  woods.  Loading  the  household  goods 
and  a  part  of  the  family  upon  a  sled,  we  went, 
and  camped  in  the  timber  until  a  house  was  built. 
Perhaps  the  distance  we  had  to  travel  was  not 
more  than  eight  or  nine  miles,  but  because  of  the 
dense  forest  through  which  we  had  to  pass,  it 
took  us  all  day  to  make  the  trip.  There  being 
no  road  leading  to  the  place,  it  was  necessary 
to  make  one,  which  was  done  by  cutting  away 
stumps,  trees,  and  underbrush,  then  blazing  the 
trees  along  the  way,  thereby  marking  the  road- 
way through  the  woods.  At  that  time,  all 
through  the  woods,  the  snow  was  about  two  feet 
deep;  but  there  had  been  a  warm  spell  followed 
by  a  hard  freeze,  thus  forming  a  crust  sufficiently 
strong  to  bear  up  a  team,  so  we  could  travel  with 
ease  on  top  of  the  snow. 

Reaching  our  destination  early  in  the  even- 


A   FRONTIER  LIFE  15 

ing,  we  soon  shoveled  the  snow  from  a  place 
large  enough  to  build  a  log  fire  and  to  spread 
our  beds.  There  we  were,  miles  from  any  house, 
with  the  thermometer  below  zero,  and  no  shelter 
from  the  cold  and  storm,  not  even  a  tent  to 
cover  our  heads. 

Being  neither  frightened  nor  discouraged,  we 
set  to  work  cutting  and  drawing  logs  together 
for  a  fire,  and  in  a  short  time  had  a  rousing  log- 
heap  all  aflame,  warming  the  air  for  many  feet 
around  us.  Wood  enough  having  been  procured 
to  keep  a  good  fire  during  the  entire  night,  we 
thought  we  were  comfortably  settled.  Supper 
over,  the  next  thing  was  to  prepare  for  sleeping. 
If  the  reader  knows  nothing  of  camp  life,  he  is 
unable  to  understand  how  any  one  can  sleep  out 
of  doors  in  the  snow  when  the  thermometer  is 
twenty  degrees  below  zero,  without  freezing  to 
death. 

Spreading  our  blankets  on  the  cold  ground, 
and  making  our  beds  on  them,  we  turned  in  for 
the  night.  Lying  with  our  feet  close  to  the  fire, 
we  slept  soundly  and  comfortably,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  some  one  having  occasionally  to  re- 
plenish the  fire. 


16  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

The  greatest  difficulty  in  living  out  of  doors 
in  such  cold  weather,  by  such  a  large  fire,  is  the 
melting  of  the  snow  and  the  thawing  of  the 
ground  around  the  fire  making  it  muddy,  and 
very  unpleasant  on  that  account.  Waking  early 
in  the  morning,  after  the  first  night's  sleep  in  the 
woods  and  on  the  ground,  we  could  hear  reports 
as  if  a  hundred  pistols  were  being  fired  all  around 
the  camp.  In  that  cold  country,  on  a  very  cold 
night,  the  trees  are  so  filled  with  frost  and  frozen 
so  hard,  that  all  through  the  night  and  until  late 
in  the  morning  they  can  be  heard  throughout 
the  forest  snapping  with  a  sound  like  the  dis- 
charge of  so  many  pistols.  Such  was  the  first 
morning  of  our  camping  in  this  place.  Imagine 
the  thermometer  twenty-five  degrees  below  zero, 
hundreds  of  trees  snapping  around  you,  as  if  they 
would  split  from  one  end  to  the  other  and  fall  to 
pieces  because  of  the  intensity  of  the  cold;  at  the 
same  time  snow  two  feet  deep  in  the  Woods,  and 
frozen  sufficiently  to  bear  the  weight  of  a  large 
yoke  of  oxen;  the  cold  winds  from  the  north 
whistling  and  bellowing  through  the  swaying 
branches  of  the  trees;  and  imagine  a  family  set 
down  in  the  midst  of  these  surroundings,  and 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  17 

you  have  some  idea  of  our  camp  life  in  the  Big 
Woods  of  Cedar. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  first  day  in  the 
woods  could  be  heard,  for  miles  away,  the  clear 
ringing  of  our  axes  as  we  sent  the  sharp  steel 
to  the  frozen  trunks  of  the  trees  that  were  being 
felled  for  the  erection  of  a  house.  He  who  has 
been  brought  up  altogether  in  a  prairie  country 
knows  nothing  of  the  charm  there  is  in  the  dis- 
tant sound  of  a  falling  tree,  and  the  echo  of  the 
woodman's  ax  mingling  with  the  clarion  notes 
of  the  woodpecker,  pecking  on  the  dry  trunk 
of  a  hollow  tree.  Such  to  the  woodman  is  music, 
and  wonderfully  charming  to  his  ear.  O  how 
my  thoughts  go  back  to  the  place  where  we 
used  to  fell  the  trees,  and  convert  them  into  saw- 
logs,  rails,  or  cord-wood !  The  boy  who  has 
been  raised  exclusively  in  a  prairie  country 
knows  nothing  of  the  amount  of  labor  there  is 
in  a  timbered  country.  Iowa  is  not  altogether 
a  timbered  country,  yet  living  in  some  of  those 
heavy  bodies  of  timber  is  like  living  in  a  country 
that  is  exclusively  timbered. 

All  hands  working  early  and  late,  enough 
logs  were  soon  brought  together  for  a  house. 


18  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

As  they  were  not  hewed,  but  left  in  their  natural 
form,  they  were  ready  to  go  into  the  body  of 
the  house  as  soon  as  on  the  ground.  The  raising 
and  covering  of  the  house  was  the  next  thing 
to  be  done.  As  there  were  three  or  four  men 
and  as  many  boys  at  work  on  it,  it  was  soon 
raised  to  a  sufficient  height,  and  the  roof  put  on. 
Then  came  the  chinking  and  daubing,  which  was 
no  small  part  of  the  work  on  a  house  of  this  kind. 
Perhaps  the  reader  would  like  to  have  me 
explain  what  chinking  and  daubing  is.  Well, 
after  the  logs  are  laid,  forming  the  body  of  the 
building,  there  are  cracks  or  spaces  left  between 
the  logs,  through  which  a  cat  or  small  dog  might 
be  thrown.  These  cracks  must  be  filled  in  order 
to  complete  the  body  of  the  house.  Pieces  of 
wood  are  split  small  enough,  and  tightly  driven 
into  these  cracks,  and  wedged  there  with  small 
wooden  wedges  to  hold  them  to  their  places. 
This  we  call  chinking.  After  the  chinking  is 
done,  still  there  are  small  cracks  and  holes  to  be 
filled,  and  as  there  is  no  lime  to  be  had,  clay  or 
the  natural  soil  is  taken  and  made  into  mortar, 
and,  with  a  wooden  trowel,  daubed  into  the 
cracks,   both   outside   and   inside   the   building, 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  19 

closing  all  the  small  cracks,  thus  making  a  com- 
plete shelter  from  the  wind  and  storm,  and  a 
tolerably  comfortable  house.  This  we  call  daub- 
ing the  house. 

I  must  not  pass  without  giving  a  sketch  of 
the  great,  huge  fireplace  in  our  new  house.  I 
think  it  must  have  been  large  enough  to  take 
in  logs  at  least  eight  feet  in  length,  and  with 
sufficient  capacity  to  receive  a  half  cord  of  wood. 
The  back  part  of  the  fireplace  was  composed  of 
very  stiff  mortar,  made  of  clay  and  pounded  up 
against  the  logs  of  the  building  until  a  complete 
wall  was  formed  between  the  fire  and  the  logs 
of  the  house.  The  chimney  was  made  of  sticks 
split  very  thin  and  narrow,  something  like  the 
common  lath,  and  laid  up  in  the  same  kind  of 
mortar  used  for  the  walls  of  the  building.  When 
I  describe  the  roof  and  floor  of  the  house,  you 
can  have  some  idea  of  our  home  in  the  woods. 
Heavy  poles,  called  ridge-poles,  were  laid  on 
top  of  the  body  of  the  house  in  such  a  way  as  to 
form  the  shape  of  the  roof,  and  for  the  support 
of  the  roof-boards  (shakes),  which  were  laid 
loosely  on  the  poles.  The  same  number  of  sim- 
ilar poles  were  laid  on  the  roof-boards  to  hold 


20  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

them  in  place.  These  poles  were  called  weights, 
and.  were  kept  on  the  roof,  at  a  proper  distance 
apart,  by  braces  from  one  to  the  other.  The 
reader  may  ask  why  we  did  not  nail  the  roof- 
boards  to  their  places.  For  the  very  best  of 
reasons :  we  had  no  such  luxuries  as  nails,  nor 
money  to  buy  them.  I  presume  that,  when  the 
building  was  completed,  there  were  not  a  dozen 
nails  in  the  house.  The  auger  and  hardwood 
pins  were  substituted  for  them.  Nor  were  nails 
used  in  making  either  the  doors  or  the  floor. 
What  peed  had  we  of  nails  or  lime,  when  nature 
provided  wood  so  liberally,  out  of  which  pins 
could  be  made  for  such  purposes,  with  plenty 
of  black  soil  in  place  of  lime? 

I  will  now  give  a  sketch  of  the  wonderful 
bedstead  and  chairs  which  were  made  for  this 
new  house,  and  its  history  is  complete.  So  far 
as  I  can  remember,  a  pole  running  the  full  length 
of  the  house,  inside,  and  fastened  six  feet  from 
the  side,  composed  the  framework  of  the  bed- 
stead, making  a  frame  eighteen  feet  long,  on 
which  beds  were  made  across  the  house,  with 
the  heads  turned  towards  the  wall,  and  ample 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  21 

room  for  a  family  of  twelve.  The  seats  were 
principally  benches  made  of  logs,  split  and  hewed 
for  this  purpose. 

Here,  in  the  Big  Woods,  we  spent  the  win- 
ter in  hunting  and  rambling  through  the  forest, 
spending  most  of  our  time  at  play. 

Being  born  in  a  new  country,  we  either  lived 
among  the  Red  Men,  or  not  far  from  them;  so 
most  of  our  early  days  were  spent  in  almost  con- 
stant dread  of  them.  At  one  place  where  we 
lived,  while  we  children  were  yet  small,  and 
father  away  from  home,  leaving  all  the  care  of 
the  family  with  mother  until  his  return,  frightful 
news  came  that  the  Indians  were  coming  on  the 
warpath,  thirty  thousand  strong,  murdering  the 
settlers  and  destroying  all  the  property  in  the 
country  through  which  they  were  passing.  You 
may  imagine  how  frightened  we  were,  when  such 
a  dreadful  rumor  reached  our  ears.  There  we 
were,  miles  from  neighbors,  father  from  home, 
and  mother  alone,  with  a  houseful  of  children 
to  look  after.  In  such  a  situation,  our  chances 
for  escape  with  our  lives  were  exceedingly  doubt- 
ful.    Of  course  we  were  frightened,  and  could 


22  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

only  expect  to  be  murdered  by  the  savages. 
That  the  report  might  be  false  was  our  only 
hope  of  seeing  another  day.  Darkness,  with  its 
gloom,  came  on,  only  adding  to  our  horrible 
situation,  when  a  message  came  informing  us 
that  the  neighbors  had,  most  of  them,  gone,  or 
were  going,  to  fly  for  their  lives  that  night,  leav- 
ing us  alone,  as  we  thought,  in  the  cruel  hands 
of  the  bloodthirsty  fiends.  Mother  gathered  us 
into  the  house,  talked  to  us  encouragingly,  as 
only  a  mother  can  under  such  trying  circum- 
stances, told  us  to  go  to  bed  and  sleep,  and  if 
the  Indians  should  come  she  would  awaken  us. 
Confiding  in  a  mother's  care,  we  soon  forgot 
our  trouble,  and  were  quietly  resting  in  dream- 
land while  she  spent  the  long,  dark,  and  awful 
hours  in  looking  and  listening  for  the  first  ap- 
pearance of  the  expected  enemy.  In  this  con- 
dition, and  with  such  surroundings,  mother 
watched  over  her  sleeping  children,  guarding 
them  from  coming  danger  as  best  she  could. 
The  long  and  lonely  hours  of  night  were  spent 
in  dipping  tallow-candles  for  pastime,  thereby 
diverting  her  mind  from  the  awful  situation,  and 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  23 

giving  bodily  exercise  to  keep  her  awake. 
Morning  came,  light  and  fair,  bringing  with  it 
the  glad  news  that  the  Indians  were  not  coming 
to  our  part  of  the  country. 

None  but  those  who  have  passed  through 
such  awful  scenes  can  comprehend  the  joy  there 
was  in  our  home  when  we  learned  that  we  were 
out  of  danger;  for  there  is  a  dread  and  even  a 
horror  at  the  very  thought  of  being  murdered 
by  the  Indians,  that  is  unsurpassed  by  almost 
any  other  fear. 

We  call  to  mind  another  time  when  we  were 
woefully  frightened  by  a  similar  report.  A 
rumor  was  sent  broadcast  through  the  surround- 
ing country  that  the  wild  men  were  coming, 
murdering  all  who  chanced  to  fall  in  their  path. 
Within  a  few  hours  from  the  time  the  news  first 
reached  us,  the  entire  community  were  on  the 
move,  seeking  shelter  from  the  scalping-knife 
and  tomahawk,  leaving  everything,  except  the 
team  that  carried  them  away,  in  possession  of 
the  savages.  After  two  or  three  days  from  home, 
we  learned  that  the  report  had  no  foundation. 
Notwithstanding  all  this,  we  were  as  badly  fright- 


24  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

ened  as  though  the  reports  were  true.  A  false 
alarm  frightens  just  as  much  as  a  true  report, 
when  we  are  ignorant  of  the  facts. 

Such  exciting  times  belong  to  the  frontier 
life.  Time  after  time  we  were  made  uneasy  by 
false  alarms,  as  well  as  by  those  that  were  real. 


CHAPTER  II 

Move  to  Kansas— Hunting  the  Buffalo— Our  Home  on 
the  Kansas  Plains— Description  of  the  Buffalo 
and  Other  Animals— Father  Chased  by  Indians- 
Other  Things  of  Interest. 

In  the  year  i860  we  left  the  thinly-settled 
part  of  Iowa,  and  moved  to  a  newer  country  in 
Western  Kansas,  where  we  obtained  much  of 
our  supplies  for  the  table  from  the  plains,  which 
abounded  with  buffaloes,  antelopes,  and  wolves. 
The  people  in  this  part  of  Kansas  depended  as 
much  (or  more)  on  hunting  the  buffalo  for  a 
living  as  on  the  grain  they  raised. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year  the  settlers  went  to 
the  buffalo  range,  and  camped  near  some  stream 
or  pool  of  water,  where  the  animals  often  came 
to  slake  their  thirst,  and  where  the  hunter  con- 
cealed himself  behind  some  bank,  or  in  some 
low  place,  where  the  unsuspecting  beast  must 
come  for  water.  In  this  way  the  hunter  fre- 
quently killed  four  or  five  before  they  could  get 
out  of  range  of  his  trusty  rifle. 

25 


26  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

The  reader  will  want  to  know  of  the  quality 
of  the  flesh  of  the  wild  ox.  In  flavor  it  is  as 
good  as  or  better  than  that  of  the  domestic  ox, 
though  much  coarser-grained.  If  the  buffalo 
were  fed  on  grain  until  fat,  I  think  the  meat 
would  be  superior  to  that  of  our  domestic  cattle. 
The  flesh  from  a  good  fat  buffalo  is  sweet  and 
palatable,  especially  when  broiled  by  a  camp- 
fire. 

I  must  not  pass  here  without  telling  the 
reader  how  we  prepared  our  meat  for  keeping 
while  so  far  from  home,  as  we  were  sometimes 
while  on  the  plains.  There  were  two  ways  of 
doing  this.  When  the  weather  was  the  least  bit 
damp,  the  flesh  was  all  cut  from  the  bones,  and 
sliced  into  thin  pieces,  then  dipped  into  boiling 
brine  prepared  for  that  purpose.  It  was  then 
put  on  to  a  scaffold,  made  by  driving  four 
forked  sticks  into  the  ground,  on  which  other 
sticks  were  laid,  until  a  complete  scaffold  was 
formed,  on  which  all  the  flesh  from  a  large  buf- 
falo could  be  placed  over  a  fire  for  drying.  A 
slow  fire  was  kept  under  it  until  it  was  suffi- 
ciently cured  to  keep  from  spoiling;  all  of  which 
could  be  done  in  less  than  a  day's  time.     When 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  2J 

the  weather  was  warm  and  dry,  as  it  usually  is 
in  this  country,  the  meat  was  prepared  as  above 
described,  but  with  no  fire  under  it,  letting  it 
dry  in  the  sun  and  wind.  When  the  sun  shone 
brightly,  and  the  hot  winds  blew  from  the  south- 
west, as  they  often  do  on  those  sandy  plains, 
meat  could  be  cured  in  seven  or  eight  hours,  and 
would  keep  all  summer  in  a  dry  place.  Those 
who  have  never  eaten  of  the  fresh,  fat  meat  of  a 
buffalo  know  nothing  of  its  sweetness,  and  how 
delicious  it  is.  When  we  were  in  camp  on  the 
buffalo  range,  and  desired  an  extra  good  dish, 
the  ribs  were  taken  from  a  fat  young  cow,  and 
turned  up  broadside  before  a  hot  fire  until  one 
side  was  thoroughly  roasted;  then  the  other  side 
was  treated  the  same  way;  after  which  it  was 
ready  for  the  hunter's  table,  which  consisted  of 
a  wagon-seat  or  the  crossed  legs  of  the  hunter. 
Besides  the  buffalo  which  went  far  towards 
supplying  the  larder,  there  were  many  antelopes 
on  the  plains  of  Kansas,  the  flesh  of  which 
greatly  helped  in  furnishing  food  for  the  family. 
By  the  hunters  the  flesh  of  the  antelope  was  con- 
sidered the  very  best  wild  meat  the  country  af- 
forded.   The  flesh  is  of  a  fine  quality,  and,  when 


28  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

fat,  is  far  superior  to  that  of  the  sheep  for  flavor. 
The  hide  of  the  antelope  was  used  for  various 
purposes.  When  well  tanned  it  was  used  for 
making  pants,  and  sometimes  the  best  and  finest 
qualities  were  good  for  shirting,  and  thought  to 
be  excellent  wear  for  the  hunter.  There  are 
many  species  of  the  antelope,  but  the  American 
is  the  one  to  which  we  refer. 

The  habits  of  the  antelope  are  peculiar.  In 
the  fall  of  the  year  they  gather  in  great  flocks, 
like  sheep,  for  the  purpose  of  migrating  south, 
where  they  find  food  for  the  winter.  In  the 
spring  of  the  year,  just  as  the  grass  is  clothing 
the  prairie  with  green,  they  return  to  the  North- 
ern States,  where  they  spend  the  summer  and 
rear  their  young.  On  traveling  south  in  the  fall 
they  go  in  herds;  but  on  their  return  in  the 
spring  they  seem  to  come  one  at  a  time,  being 
scattered  in  every  direction.  Sometimes,  how- 
ever, two  or  three  can  be  seen  in  company.  The 
antelope  is  of  a  very  wild  nature,  and  usually 
feeds  on  the  high  rolling  prairie,  where  he  can 
easily  discover  an  approaching  enemy,  some- 
times running  at  the  sight  of  a  man  though  miles 
away,  while  at  other  times  it  will  stand  and  gaze 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  29 

at  the  hunter  until  shot  down.  Being  of  a  very 
inquisitive  nature,  on  seeing  an  object  which  it 
does  not  recognize,  it  will  approach  closer  and 
closer,  circle  round  and  round,  stepping  softly, 
seemingly  determined  to  know  what  the  object 
is  before  it  leaves  the  place.  Many  times,  in  this 
way,  it  is  made  an  easy  prey  to  the  hunter.  I 
have  seen  these  animals  in  the  distance  coming 
toward  me,  and  lain  down  flat  to  the  ground 
until  they  came  within  a  few  paces  of  where  I 
was  lying,  and  stand  until  shot  down.  At  other 
times  I  have  attracted  their  attention  and  drawn 
them  to  me  by  throwing  myself  on  the  ground, 
and  waving  a  handkerchief  in  the  air  above  my 
head. 

One  of  the  most  successful  ways  to  get  a 
shot  at  the  antelope  is,  when  it  is  seen  in  the 
distance,  for  one  hunter  to  conceal  himself,  and 
then  for  another  to  walk  away  from  the  one  con- 
cealed, leaving  him  in  ambush  between  himself 
and  the  game,  at  the  same  time  waving  a  hand- 
kerchief so  the  animal  can  see  it.  This  draws  it 
towards  him  until  within  gunshot  of  the  man 
lying  in  ambush,  who  finds  it  an  easy  prey. 

At  certain  times  of  the  year  antelopes  are 


30  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

much  wilder  than  at  other  seasons.  In  the 
spring,  when  returning  to  the  north,  they  are 
more  easily  decoyed  and  killed  than  in  the  fall. 
As  they  return  in  the  spring  they  are  usually 
found  with  but  one  in  a  place,  and  seem  to  be 
hunting  for  their  mates.  Hence,  when  they  see 
an  object,  and  not  knowing  what  it  is,  they  make 
sure  it  is  not  an  antelope  before  leaving.  At 
such  times,  if  the  hunter  keeps  himself  well  con- 
cealed, the  game  will  come  within  a  few  paces 
of  him  before  it  will  take  fright  and  run. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year  the  flesh  of  the  ante- 
lope is  far  better  than  at  any  other  season,  and 
is  at  that  time  the  most  difficult  to  obtain.  Early 
in  the  fall  their  young  are  about  half  grown,  and 
are  so  fleet  that,  when  frightened,  they  will  dis- 
tance the  swiftest  greyhound  in  the  chase.  At 
this  time  the  old  ones  seem  to  be  training  their 
young  to  keep  away  from  danger.  There  are 
but  few,  if  any,  animals  that  can  skip  over  the 
prairie  as  swiftly  as  the  antelope  of  America. 

Notwithstanding  the  wild  nature  of  the 
American  antelope,  it  may  be  tamed  so  as  to 
follow  its  master  like  a  pet  lamb,  and,  if  turned 
loose,  will  not,  like  most  other  wild  animals,  go 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  31 

back  to  a  wild  state,  unless  turned  loose  among 
the  wild  ones,  away  from  its  master.  I  have  seen 
them  running  about  the  house  and  yard,  being- 
permitted  to  go  where  they  liked,  but  were  sure 
not  to  go  far  from  home. 

I  must  not  pass  without  giving  the  reader  a 
sketch  of  our  home  on  the  Kansas  plains.  The 
house  was  of  rough  logs,  and  made  about  the 
same  as  those  in  Iowa,  which  are  described  in  a 
former  chapter,  with  the  exception  of  the  roof 
and  chimney.  The  roof  of  the  former  was  of 
bark  and  boards;  the  latter  was  of  poles,  straw, 
and  dirt.  The  chimney  of  the  former  was  made 
of  sticks  and  mud;  the  latter  of  stones  and  mud. 

In  the  summer  of  1861  father  had  a  piece  of 
ground  plowed,  on  which  he  planted  sod-corn 
and  some  melons.  I  think  five  acres  of  sod- 
corn  was  all  the  crop  we  had  to  depend  upon  for 
bread.  A  good  crop  on  such  a  small  piece  of 
ground  would  have  been  a  scanty  supply  for 
such  a  large  family.  That  season,  the  weather 
being  dry,  the  hot  winds  from  the  southwest 
again  burned  up  all  the  crops  in  the  country. 
Finding  some  work  to  do  for  others  helped  us 
out  a  little;  but  our  main  dependence  for  sup- 


32  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

port  was  wild  game,  the  principal  of  which  was 
the  bison,  or  American  buffalo.  The  antelope 
and  jack-rabbit  often  afforded  us  a  good  square 
meal,  but  the  buffalo  was  our  mainstay  for  meat 
and  bread,  and  was  sometimes  turned  into  cloth- 
ing. Part  of  the  flesh  was  eaten,  and  part 
exchanged  for  bread  or  clothing.  Sometimes 
overcoats  were  made  of  the  hides,  and  some- 
times they  were  sold  and  sent  back  East,  though 
bringing  only  a  small  price. 

All  in  the  country  were  hunters,  many  times 
the  women  going  with  a  hunting  party  to  the 
buffalo  range.  Sometimes  my  own  mother  took 
part  in  the  hunt  after  the  wild  American  ox. 

I  shall  never  forget  my  first  trip  to  the  buf- 
falo-ground. Early  one  beautiful  morning  in  the 
fall  of  1861  some  six  or  eight  of  us  started  in 
quest  of  the  buffalo.  After  traveling  several 
miles,  and,  as  I  thought,  beyond  all  settlement, 
I  would  run  on  ahead  of  the  company  and  look 
for  game.  Thus  I  traveled  on  perhaps  a  mile 
in  advance  of  the  teams,  when,  down  on  the 
banks  of  a  creek  near  a  clump  of  trees,  I  saw 
four  buffaloes  feeding  on  the  grass.  On  seeing 
the   game   I   became   wonderfully   excited,    and 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  33 

thought,  "Now,  I  will  say  nothing  to  the  other 
joys,  but  hasten  on  and  have  one  killed  before 
the  company  knows  anything  about  it."  Being 
fleet  of  foot,  I  left  the  wagons  in  the  distance, 
and,  running  like  a  man  for  life,  soon  came  close 
to  the  game.  Keeping  the  trees  between  me 
and  the  buffaloes,  I  crept  softly  along  until  reach- 
ing the  creek,  and,  there  being  no  water  in  it, 
I  thought,  "Now  I  have  them;  for  they  are  near 
the  bank  where  I  can  approach  them  under 
cover."  While  I  could  hear  my  own  heart  throb- 
bing with  excitement,  I  went  crawling  along, 
occasionally  looking  up  over  the  bank  to  see 
where  they  were.  As  I  crept  along  with  such 
expectations,  my  feelings  were  almost  indescrib- 
able. I  thought,  "How  the  men  will  be  sur- 
prised when  they  come  up,  and  find  that  I,  who 
have  never  been  on  the  buffalo  range,  and  have 
never  seen  a  wild  buffalo,  and  have  been  looked 
upon  as  a  'tenderfoot,'  have  killed  the  first  one 
on  this  trip!"  Besides  all  this,  we  had  not  yet 
reached  the  place  where  the  old  hunters  expected 
to  find  game  larger  than  an  antelope.  Taking 
these  things  into  consideration,  I  was  exceed- 
ingly anxious  to  make  sure  work.  So,  creeping 
3 


34  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

along  until  reaching  the  bank  not  far  from  where 
they  were  leisurely  grazing  in  the  valley,  getting 
my  gun  all  ready  for  a  fatal  shot,  and  poking  it 
up  over  the  bank  to  shoot — behold !  one  of  them 
had  a  cow-bell!  I  hesitated,  and,  on  looking 
around,  saw  a  farm-house  but  a  short  distance 
from  where  the  animals  were  feeding! 

The  reader  can  guess  how  quickly  my 
feathers  fell  on  seeing  how  near  I  had  come  to 
shooting  a  farmer's  tame  buffalo,  just  within  a 
few  rods  of  his  dooryard.  Throwing  the  gun  on 
my  shoulder,  I  slowly  walked  back  to  the  road, 
considerably  chagrined,  but  congratulating  my- 
self on  not  getting  into  trouble.  Sitting  down, 
I  waited  until  the  teams  came  up,  but  was  care- 
ful to  say  nothing  about  my  adventure.  Having 
had  my  fun  all  alone,  I  would  keep  my  disap- 
pointment to  myself,  and  but  few,  if  any,  of  that 
company  ever  knew  of  my  blunder. 

After  about  three  days'  travel,  we  reached 
the  buffalo  range,  where  there  were  thousands 
feeding  on  the  prairie-grass,  and  all  eyes  were 
strained  in  looking  off  in  the  distance  at  the  cov- 
eted game.  At  some  places  on  the  Kansas  plains 
the  country  is  so  level  that  a  herd  of  buffaloes 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  35 

may  be  seen  nearly  ten  miles  away,  thus  giving 
the  hunter  a  chance  to  take  advantage  of  the 
unsuspecting  animals. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day  after 
leaving  home,  we  saw  buffaloes  in  the  distance, 
when  a  plan  of  operation  was  agreed  upon,  that 
we  might  capture  at  least  one  before  night.  The 
wagons  were  driven  so  as  to  head  off  the  crea- 
tures from  going  where  they  wished,  some  of 
the  hunters  keeping  close  to  the  teams,  while 
others  were  on  either  side  and  in  front  of  them. 
The  animals  soon  saw  they  were  being  cut  off 
from  the  course  they  were  traveling,  and,  mak- 
ing a  bold  dash,  attempted  to  run  in  front  of 
the  teams,  when  father  shot  one  through  the 
lungs,  which  soon  brought  him  to  the  ground. 
This  prepared  us  for  a  grand  feast  that  night. 
All  hands  taking  hold,  the  game  was  soon 
dressed  and  in  the  wagon,  and  we  were  away 
to  camp  for  the  night. 

One  who  has  never  camped  on  the  buffalo 
range  knows  nothing  of  the  strange  feelings  that 
come  over  one  who  sleeps,  or  tries  to  sleep,  there 
for  the  first  time.  As  soon  as  the  mantle  of 
darkness  is  thrown  over  the  land,   the  wolves 


36  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

come  forth  from  their  hiding-places  to  seek  their 
prey,  and  about  the  time  the  hunter  lies  down 
for  the  night's  sleep  they  begin  their  revelry  by 
gathering  all  around  the  camp,  and  setting  up  a 
coarse,  hideous  howl,  which  sounds  far  away, 
though  it  is  very  near  the  camp.    These  wolves 
which  infest  the  buffalo  range  are  called  the  large 
gray  wolf,  being  larger  than  a  common  mastiff, 
and,  when  hungry,  often  attack  young  buffaloes, 
and  have  been  known  to  kill  horses  and  mules. 
The  howl  of  the  gray  wolf  sounds  more  like  the 
howl  of  a  large  dog  than  any  thing  else  to  which 
I  can  liken  it.     With  the  howling  of  the  wolves, 
and  the  bellowing  and  tramping  of  the  thou- 
sands of  buffaloes  around  the  unprotected  camp, 
the   inexperienced    hunter    feels   that    he    is    in 
neither  a  pleasant  nor  a  safe  place  for  sleeping. 
Many  times  have  I  lain  down  in  the  night,  and 
heard  in  the  distance  the  tramp  of  frightened 
buffaloes,   sounding   like    distant   thunder,    and 
making  the  very  earth  tremble  where  we  lay. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  dreadful  noise  made  by 
the  stampeding  of  thousands  of  them  as,  in  wild 
fury,   they  rushed   onward,   demolishing  every- 
thing that  lay  in  their  path,  turning  their  course 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  37 

for  no  obstacle,  bounding  across  the  ditches  with 
their  heavy  tread,  scaling  the  hills,  leaping  over 
banks  ten  feet  high,  and  plunging  into  the  river, 
whether  the  water  was  shallow  or  deep.  At  such 
times  as  this,  if  the  hunter's  camp  should  be  in 
their  pathway,  he  stands  a  good  chance  to  be 
tramped  to  death  by  them  while  passing  in  their 
mad  career.  When  frightened,  these  wild  beasts 
of  the  plains  are  a  dangerous  foe  to  meet,  espe- 
cially when  in  large  herds.  Large  freight-trains 
while  crossing  the  plain's  have  been  completely 
destroyed  by  frightened  herds  of  buffalo,  which 
ran  into  them,  killing  the  teams,  breaking  the 
wagons  to  pieces,  and  sometimes  killing  the 
driver.  This  I  only  know  by  hearsay.  Notwith- 
standing all  this,  the  buffalo  is  not  as  vicious  an 
animal  as  many  think. 

Let  us  now  speak  of  the  nature  and  habits 
of  this  native  ox  of  the  American  plains.  The 
American  buffalo  is  so  called  by  the  American 
people;  but  naturalists  inform  us  that  it  is  not 
buffalo,  but  properly  bison.  "The  American 
bison  is  very  similar  to  the  European.  In  gen- 
eral it  is  rather  smaller,  but  not  always,  and  it  is 
said  sometimes   to  attain   to  a  weight  of  two 


38  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

thousand  pounds.  Its  limbs,  tail,  and  horns  are 
shorter.  The  front  parts  of  the  American  bison 
are  very  strong  and  heavy,  having  a  rough  and 
shaggy  appearance — more  so  in  summer  than 
in  winter." 

The  wolf  is  unable  to  contend  with  the  bison; 
but  many  wolves  often  hang  around  the  herds 
to  devour  the  calves.  The  only  American  ani- 
mal that  is  singly  capable  of  overcoming  the 
bison  is  the  grizzly  bear.  The  size  and  strength 
of  the  animal  makes  it  probable  that,  if  domesti- 
cated, it  would  be  of  great  use.  This  American 
bison,  or  buffalo,  as  I  shall  call  it,  is  of  a  very 
wild  nature,  and  keeps  as  far  from  settlements 
as  possible,  though,  when  pinched  with  hunger, 
he  will  venture  far  into  danger.  He  has  been 
driven  almost  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific, 
and  must  soon  become  a  thing  of  the  past.  The 
old  are  very  strongly  attached  to  the  young,  and 
many  times,  when  the  calf  is  shot  down,  the 
mother  will  stand  by  her  offspring  until  she,  too, 
is  killed  by  its  side. 

Buffaloes  usually  go  in  great  herds.  I  think 
I  am  not  overestimating  when  I  say  that  I  have 
seen  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  in  one  herd. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  39 

I  have  ridden  on  horseback  a  full  half  day  at  a 
time,  with  them  all  around  me,  both  near  and  as 
far  away  as  eye  could  see  over  the  prairies  in 
every  direction.  Though  the  buffalo  is  vicious 
when  wounded,  or  when  surrounded  by  an 
enemy,  so  that  he  has  no  chance  to  run  for  his 
life,  yet  it  is  a  mistake  to  think  he  is  inclined 
to  attack  a  man  whenever  the  opportunity  is 
afforded.  If  not  cornered,  or  wounded,  so  that 
he  can  not  run,  he  will  always  flee  from  man,  like 
most  other  wild  animals;  but  when  cornered,  or 
wounded,  so  that  he  can  not  escape  for  his  life, 
he  becomes  a  formidable  foe,  and  has  been 
known  to  kill  both  horse  and  rider. 

While  we  were  yet  in  Kansas,  the  Indians  of 
that  section  went  on  their  usual  summer  hunt. 
As  they  were  pursuing  the  buffaloes  on  their 
ponies,  shooting  arrows  into  them  as  they  ran, 
one  unfortunate  fellow,  riding  close  beside  a  buf- 
falo, was  seen  by  the  animal,  who  wheeled,  and 
met  him,  almost  instantly  killing  both  horse  and 
rider.  The  male  is  more  likely  to  fight  than  the 
female;  but  when  a  cow  makes  a  charge  for  fight, 
she  will  follow  it  up  much  longer  than  the  male. 

Whether   the   saying  be   true   that  when   a 


40  A  FRONTIER  MFE 

woman  undertakes  to  injure  an  enemy,  she  is 
more  determined  and  sticks  to  her  purpose 
longer  than  a  man,  I  know  not;  but  I  do  know 
that  it  is  the  case  with  the  more  tender  sex  of 
the  buffalo  race,  for  I  have  had  experience  with 
them.  Many  times  have  we  followed  the 
wounded  buffalo  on  horseback  until  he  would 
go  no  farther,  but  would  turn  upon  us,  making 
us  put  whip  to  the  horse  to  keep  away  from  the 
horns  of  the  infuriated  and  powerful  beast. 
Under  such  circumstances  I  think  we  could  get 
more  speed  out  of  our  horse  than  when  pursuing 
the  animals;  at  least  we  were  more  anxious  that 
the  horse  should  make  better  time. 

As  previously  stated,  the  buffalo  has  wonder- 
ful strength,  and  grows  to  be  of  great  size.  I 
have  seen  them  killed  that  would  measure  nearly 
six  feet  from  the  top  of  the  hump  over  the  shoul- 
der to  the  lower  part  of  the  brisket;  and  when 
the  hide  was  stretched  to  its  utmost  capacity,  it 
was  large  enough  to  cover  three  beds  of  com- 
mon width. 

Buffaloes  are  generally  on  the  march  when 
not  sleeping,  never  staying  long  in  one  place. 
Unlike  most  other  animals,  they  travel  against 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  41 

the  wind,  no  difference  how  bad  the  storm.  In 
cold  weather  and  in  warm  it  is  the  same;  they 
always  face  the  wind.  The  drifting  snowstorm, 
which  drives  our  domesticated  animals  before  it, 
is  invariably  faced  by  the  bovine  of  the  plains. 
There  seem  to  be  two  reasons  for  this.  The  first 
is :  Being  sagacious  animals,  they  are  usually  on 
the  lookout  for  danger  when  not  sleeping,  and, 
having  a  sharp,  keen  scent,  they  are  guarded 
from  surprise  by  an  approaching  enemy  in  front. 
The  second  reason  seems  to  be  this:  On  the 
forehead  and  halfway  back  on  the  body  they  are 
covered  with  a  heavy  coat  of  wool  or  hair,  while 
their  hinder  parts  are  naked  and  exposed  to  the 
weather;  and  so  they  are  warmer  with  their  faces 
toward  the  storm.  They  not  only  travel  toward 
the  storm,  but  they  lie  down  facing  it.  The  great 
mass  of  hair  on  the  forehead  of  the  male  is  won- 
derful to  behold,  being  from  ten  to  twenty  inches 
long,  and  so  thickly  matted  over  the  pate,  that 
a  common  rifle-ball  can  not  pass  through  it. 
Perhaps  the  reader  has  heard  that  the  skull  of 
the  buffalo  is  so  thick  and  hard  that  a  ball  from 
the  keenest  rifle  will  not  penetrate  it.  This  is 
a  false  impression;  notwithstanding,  it  is  a  fact 


42  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

that  a  ball  from  a  common  rifle  will  not  pene- 
trate the  forehead  of  the  male;  but  it  is  because 
of  the  great  mat  of  hair  on  it,  which  is  always 
filled  with  sand  and  dirt. 

Before  going  on  to  the  buffalo  range,  I  heard 
old  hunters  say  that  they  could  not  kill  one  by 
shooting  it  in  the  forehead.  Doubting  the  truth- 
fulness of  this  statement,  I  determined  at  the 
first  opportunity  to  give  it  a  trial.  A  short  time 
after  reaching  the  range  I  had  a  chance  to  try  it. 
One  of  my  brothers  and  I  wounded  one  so  that 
he  could  not  run  away,  nor  run  us  away,  and  we 
tried  shooting  him  in  the  forehead.  Stepping 
up  within  a  few  paces  of  his  head,  we  fired.  At 
the  crack  of  the  gun  we  saw  the  dust  fly  from 
his  head,  which  he  slightly  moved  to  one  side 
as  though  nothing  had  happened,  I  have  tried 
the  same,  time  after  time,  but  was  unable  to  pene- 
trate the  head  through  that  mat  of  wool  and 
sand.  The  experienced  hunter,  to  make  sure  of 
his  game,  will  aim  to  penetrate  the  lower  part 
of  the  body  just  behind  the  shoulder,  or  shoot 
the  creature  in  the  small  of  the  back.  By  aiming 
at  the  former  place  the  ball  is  likely  to  reach  the 
heart;  at  the  latter  place  the  backbone  may  be 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  43 

broken,  which  will  always  secure  the  game. 
Sometimes,  when  the  buffalo  is  wounded,  and 
then  aggravated  until  he  is  completely  enraged, 
it  seems  almost  impossible  to  kill  him,  though  he 
is  shot  many  times.  I  call  to  mind  an  experience 
we  had  in  killing  an  old  fellow  after  wounding 
him.  A  brother  and  I  were  out  hunting  when 
we  saw  several  buffaloes  together.  Creeping  up 
close  enough,  as  we  thought,  to  bring  one  down, 
we  both  fired  at  the  one  nearest,  and  broke  one 
of  his  hind  legs.  His  hind  leg  being  broken,  we 
felt  sure  of  capturing  him;  but  if  allowed  to  walk 
away,  he  would  walk  many  miles  before  either 
stopping  to  eat  or  lie  down.  The  only  sure  way 
to  capture  him,  then,  was  to  set  him  to  running, 
as  he  would  go  but  a  short  distance  when  his 
well  leg  would  give  way  and  let  him  to  the 
ground.  Reloading  our  guns  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible, we  gave  chase.  After  following  him  per- 
haps a  half  mile,  his  leg  could  support  him  no 
longer,  and  down  he  went.  Walking  up  within 
a  reasonable  distance  of  the  wounded  and  angry 
beast  we  fired  into  him  again,  both  balls  enter- 
ing his  body,  seemingly  with  but  little  effect, 
for  he  arose  to  his  feet  and  started  off  as  before. 


44  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

Again  we  gave  chase,  and  drove  him  until  he 
fell,  when  another  charge  was  put  into  him, 
which  fastened  him  to  the  ground,  but  failed  to 
kill  him.  Standing  within  a  few  feet  of  him,  we 
sent  eight  or  ten  balls  as  near  his  heart  as  we 
could,  and  yet  he  lived.  Being  now  two  miles 
from  camp,  and  the  shades  of  night  coming  upon 
us,  we  left  the  buffalo,  and  went  for  the  team  to 
take  our  game  to  camp,  thinking  that  he  would 
certainly  be  dead  by  the  time  we  could  return. 
On  returning  to  dress  our  game,  we  found  him 
still  alive  and  lying  on  his  side  in  a  natural  po- 
sition. Again  we  tried  shooting,  but  failed  to 
kill  him  in  that  way.  He  was  so  weak  that  we 
ventured  to  take  him  by  the  horns,  pull  him 
over,  and  cut  his  throat,  which  brought  death 
in  a  short  time. 

It  is  wonderful  how  an  animal  will  sometimes 
cling  to  life  when  shot  in  so  many  places,  and  any 
one  of  the  wounds  would  finally  cause  its  death. 
When  a  hunter  breaks  the  hind  leg  of  a  buffalo, 
he  feels  quite  sure  of  getting  him;  for  with  one 
hind  leg  broken,  he  can  run  but  a  short  distance, 
when  he  gives  out  and  falls.  Not  so  when  one 
of  the  front  legs  is  broken.     He  is  so  strong  in 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  45 

the  shoulders  and  front  legs  that  he  can  run  for 
many  miles  thus  injured,  and  often  outruns  the 
hunter  and  escapes  on  three  legs.  Sometimes 
we  hunted  the  buffalo  in  a  way  called  by  the 
hunters  still  hunting;  that  is,  by  creeping  upon 
them  under  cover  of  banks  of  earth,  weeds, 
brush,  or  prairie-grass.  Another  mode  of  still 
hunting  was  to  find  a  herd  and  learn  the  direc- 
tion it  was  traveling,  then  lie  in  ambush,  and 
take  it  by  surprise,  though  this  is  difficult  be- 
cause, as  previously  stated,  the  herd  usually 
travels  against  the  wind,  and  will  scent  you.  The 
best  time  to  ambush  these  animals  is  while  they 
are  going  for  water,  at  which  time  they  can  not 
always  face  the  wind.  Another  way  of  hunting 
them  is  on  horseback.  The  hunter  first  finds 
their  whereabouts,  then  rides  as  close  to  them  as 
he  can  under  cover,  and,  making  a  charge,  goes 
flying  down  upon  them,  shooting  them  as  they 
run.  This  is  the  Indian's  favorite  mode.  But 
for  the  white  man  it  is  not  equal  to  still  hunt- 
ing, as  it  drives  the  game  so  far  from  camp. 
Sometimes,  when  thus  frightened,  they  will  run 
eight  or  ten  miles  before  stopping. 

To  engage  in  the  buffalo  chase  on  horseback 


46  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

is  wonderfully  exciting  to  the  sportsman,  but  is 
attended  with  great  danger  to  both  horse  and 
rider.  Many  times  have  I  taken  part  in  this  ex- 
citing and  dangerous  chase  after  the  wild  ox  of 
the  American  plains,  running  into  a  herd  of  prob- 
ably more  than  five  thousand,  and  separating 
them  in  every  direction. 

On  a  beautiful  summer  day,  while  some  of 
my  brothers  and  I  were  on  the  plains  among  the 
buffaloes,  we  decided  to  capture  a  young  one  by 
rushing  upon  it  with  our  horses.  Finding  a  large 
herd  feeding  on  the  grass,  a  small  one  was  se- 
lected, and  we  gave  chase.  The  herd  ran  helter- 
skelter  over  the  hills  and  valleys,  scattering  in 
every  direction.  Separating  from  the  herd  the 
one  we  had  selected,  it  was  soon  overtaken. 
Riding  alongside  of  the  animal,  we  shot  it  with 
our  revolvers,  but  only  wounded  it  enough  to 
make  it  fight  for  life.  While  we  were  riding 
around  to  get  another  broadside  shot,  it  made  a 
vicious  lunge  at  my  horse,  aiming  to  strike  him 
in  the  side,  but  missed  its  aim  and  struck  under 
him.  Being  small  and  much  weakened  from  the 
wound,  it  was  unable  to  do  any  harm,  and  only 
made  sport  for  us. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  47 

We  will  give  the  reason  why  buffaloes  are  so 
dangerous  and  destructive  to  wagons,  tents,  or 
anything  in  their  path,  while  running.  There  is 
no  such  danger  where  only  a  few  are  together. 
As  has  been  stated,  buffaloes  go  in  large  herds, 
and  when  they  are  frightened  they  all  run  in 
the  same  direction.  Seeming  to  think  that  the 
enemy  is  in  their  rear,  the  hind  ones  crowd  upon 
those  in  front,  and  should  the  leaders  come  to  an 
object  which  they  can  not  shun,  they  are  pressed 
upon  it  by  the  mighty  herd  behind  them.  In 
their  mad  flight  they  have  no  power  to  stop,  or 
even  turn  from  their  course.  Should  those  in 
front  attempt  to  stop,  or  even  turn  aside,  they 
would  be  gored  by  those  behind,  unable  to  see 
the  danger  in  front.  They  would  not  only  be 
gored,  but  would  probably  be  knocked  down  and 
trampled  to  death  by  the  oncoming  thousands. 

The  buffalo  may  be  tamed  so  as  to  become 
quite  docile;  but  as  yet  it  has  not  proved  profit- 
able to  its  keeper. 

Besides  buffaloes,  wolves,  and  antelopes  on 
the  Kansas  plains,  there  were  jack-rabbits, 
snakes,  prairie-dogs,  and  owls. 

The  prairie-dog  is  a  very  interesting  species 


48  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

of  marmot.  It  is  about  the  size  of  a  timber 
squirrel,  and  has  soft,  reddish  fur,  each  hair  being 
red,  with  a  white  tip.  The  name  prairie-dog 
seems  to  have  been  given  to  it  from  its  frequent 
utterance  of  a  sound  somewhat  like  the  bark  of 
a  puppy.  It  seems  that  a  more  correct  name 
would  be  barking  marmot.  The  prairie-dog 
does  not  inhabit  the  richly  grass-covered  prairie, 
where  buffaloes  abound,  but  seeks  those  places 
which,  for  want  of  water,  exhibit  a  comparatively 
scanty  supply  of  vegetation.  Here  they  are  to 
be  found  in  vast  numbers,  being  gregarious  in 
their  habits.  Burrowing  in  the  ground,  they 
throw  up  mounds  of  earth,  on  the  summits  of 
which  the  little  creatures  often  sit  as  if  on  guard. 
The  whole  extent  of  a  great  level  prairie  is  often 
covered  with  these  little  hillocks.  As  soon  as 
the  hand  is  raised  to  a  weapon  or  missile,  they 
pop  into  their  holes  with  amazing  rapidity,  then 
turn  round,  come  out,  and  bark  at  the  intruder. 
Still  more  interesting  is  the  frequent  asso- 
ciation of  the  prairie-dog  with  the  burrowing 
owl  and  the  rattlesnake  in  the  same  burrow;  an 
association  which  has  been  variously  described 
as  one  of  strange  friendship  among  creatures  of 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  49 

the  most  opposite  characters,  as  the  owl  and  the 
rattlesnake  are  supposed  to  prey  upon  the 
prairie-dog  and  its  young.  But  so  far  as  the 
owl  is  concerned,  this  is  rendered  very  doubtful, 
from  the  fact  that  it  probably  finds  the  burrows* 
of  the  marmot  its  only  convenient  retreat,  and 
their  inhabitants  harmless  neighbors.  The  rat- 
tlesnakes referred  to  are  large,  venomous  rep- 
tiles, much  dreaded  by  all  buffalo-hunters. 
These  snakes  are  frequently  found  in  the  prairie- 
dog  holes.  Whether  occupied  by  the  dogs  I 
know  not,  but  am  inclined  to  doubt,  though 
most  hunters  say  they  are. 

The  jack-rabbit  is  another  object  of  interest 
as  well  as  curiosity,  and  affords  the  hunter  many 
a  good  dinner.  The  jack-rabbit  is  as  fleet  as  the 
wind;  so  swift,  indeed,  that  but  few  hounds  can 
overtake  it  in  the  chase.  The  Western  sports- 
man glories  in  chasing  the  long-eared  hare  of 
the  plains.  By  some  the  flesh  of  the  jack-rabbit 
is  considered  an  excellent  food,  though  others 
think  it  inferior  to  the  common  rabbit. 

Having  given  you  a  brief  sketch  of  some  of 
the  animals  found  on  the  plains,  I  will  now  re- 
turn to  our  hunting  expedition.     After  feasting 
4 


50  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

on  the  game  brought  down  by  my  father's  sure 
aim  and  trusty  rifle,  on  coming  to  the  buffalo 
range,  as  previously  stated,  we  slept  for  the  first 
time  on  the  wild  plains  of  Kansas,  among  the 
wolves  and  frightened  buffaloes.  The  next  day 
we  moved  and  pitched  camp  in  a  more  conven- 
ient place  for  drying  the  meat.  When  the  shades 
of  night  came  again,  we  had  three  more  buffaloes 
killed  and  drawn  to  camp.  If  we  wished  to  make 
sure  of  the  game  killed  during  the  day,  it  was 
drawn  to  camp  before  night;  for  the  wolves  were 
always  following  the  buffaloes,  and  when  one  was 
wounded,  they  would  follow  him  until  he  died  or 
got  well.  If  a  buffalo  was  killed  and  left  out 
over  night,  the  wolves  would  devour  it  before 
morning. 

We  remained  on  the  hunting-ground  about 
two  weeks,  during  which  time  we  killed  enough 
game,  when  the  flesh  was  taken  from  the  bones, 
to  fill  two  wagon-beds  of  the  clean  meat  alone. 
With  this  we  returned  home,  fully  satisfied  with 
our  hunt. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1861  we  made  another 
trip  to  the  range,  taking  two  wagons  with  which 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  51 

to  bring  back  our  summer's  supply  of  meat. 
This  time  we  found  the  buffaloes  in  great  herds, 
and  soon  returned  loaded  with  the  flesh  and  hides 
of  this  wild  ox. 

The  hides  of  the  buffaloes  were  mostly  used 
for  robes.  When  taken  in  the  fall  or  forepart 
of  winter  the  fur  is  long  and  thick,  and  makes 
excellent  robes  or  overcoats.  One  time,  while 
out  among  the  buffaloes,  I  killed  a  young  male, 
took  off  his  coat  with  my  own  knife,  took  it 
home,  tanned  it,  and  made  a  coat  of  it  for  my- 
self— the  first  overcoat  I  ever  owned.  We 
learned  of  the  Indians  how  to  cut  the  green  hides 
into  narrow  strips  for  lariat  ropes,  which,  by  the 
people  of  this  country,  were  used  instead  of  grass 
ropes.  It  is  a  shame  how  those  animals  were 
killed,  and  left  on  the  ground  to  waste !  Thou- 
sands of  them  were  killed  just  for  the  fun  of 
shooting  them.  Some  hunters  would  kill  them 
for  the  meat  and  leave  the  hide,  and  some  would 
kill  them  for  the  hide  and  leave  the  meat,  while 
others  killed  them  for  the  tongue,  and  left  the 
rest  to  be  devoured  by  the  wolves  or  rot  on  the 
ground.     I  have  known  men  to  spend  all  their 


52  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

time  in  killing  them  for  the  tongue  alone,  which 
they  shipped  east  for  fifty  cents  apiece,  making 
considerable  money. 

During  the  summer  season  three  of  us  made 
another  trip  to  the  buffalo  range  alone.  This 
time  we  took  two  yoke  of  oxen  to  one  wagon, 
intending  to  bring  back  a  good  supply  of  meat. 
After  our  first  day's  drive,  we  camped  for  the 
night.  When  not  on  the  buffalo  ground  our 
teams  could  be  turned  loose,  and  would  stay  with 
us  until  morning;  but  when  on  the  range  we  had 
to  keep  them  on  ropes,  for  they  would  stay 
nowhere  when  loose.  This  night  we  were  not 
far  from  the  settlement,  so  they  were  all  turned 
loose  to  feed  on  the  grass.  On  awaking  the  next 
morning  our  oxen  were  not  to  be  seen,  and  we 
soon  discovered  that  they  had  taken  the  trail 
for  home.  It  fell  to  my  brother  Richard's  lot 
to  follow  and  bring  them  back.  While  waiting 
his  return,  I  took  my  gun  and  went  in  search  of 
antelopes.  After  going  a  short  distance  I  saw 
an  old  dam  and  her  young  feeding  on  the  grass 
in  a  low  place,  which  afforded  a  good  chance  for 
a  shot.  Creeping  close  to  them,  I  fired  and 
brought  down  the  old  one.     How  cruel  it  now 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  53 

seems  to  shoot  down  an  old  dame,  and  leave  the 
young  to  provide  for  itself,  or  to  kill  the  young 
by  the  side  of  its  mother!  The  game  was  soon 
dressed,  and  I  went  marching  to  camp  with  it  on 
my  shoulder.  If  the  reader  has  ever  undertaken 
to  carry  a  hundred-pound  pig  the  distance  of  a 
mile,  he  knows  something  of  my  feelings  on 
reaching  the  camp.  About  night,  Richard  re- 
turned with  the  oxen,  and  the  next  morning  we 
moved  towards  the  hunting-ground.  We  trav- 
eled several  days  before  finding  buffaloes,  and 
began  to  despair  of  finding  any  at  all. 

Traveling  in  a  southwesterly  direction,  we 
crossed  the  Arkansas  River,  and  came  into  a 
country  wonderful  to  behold,  where  no  vegeta- 
tion grew,  excepting  occasionally  a  kind  of  shrub 
that  would  grow  in  the  sand.  We  traveled  in  t^iis 
section  of  country  until  nothing  but  an  ocean 
of  sand  could  be  seen  in  any  direction,  the  banks 
of  sand  appearing  like  so  many  waves  of  the  sea. 
One  evening  we  camped  on  this  sandy  plain, 
and  as  yet  had  found  no  buffalo.  Rising  early 
the  next  morning,  we  saw  two  buffaloes  coming 
toward  the  camp;  but,  seeing  us,  they  turned  and 
ran.     Brother  and  I  gave  them  a  chase  through 


54  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

the  sand,  came  upon  them,  and  brought  them  to 
the  ground.  Soon  the  teams  were  with  us,  and 
we  were  at  work  drying  the  meat,  which  was 
but  a  short  job.  The  flesh  was  cut  into  small 
pieces,  dipped  into  hot  brine,  and  spread  upon 
the  grass  to  dry;  for  by  this  time  we  had  come 
to  a  place  where  the  ground  was  covered  with 
short  grass.  In  this  desolate  country,  with  the 
burning  rays  of  the  sun  pouring  down  and  the 
hot  winds  blowing  over  the  sea  of  sand,  the  air 
becomes  so  heated  that  it  will  almost  cook  an 
egg  if  left  on  the  sand  a  few  hours.  I  think  this  is 
why  Kansas  suffers  so  much  from  the  drought. 
The  winds  pass  over  this  large  tract  of  sand,  and, 
becoming  thoroughly  heated,  sweep  over  the 
country,  burning  the  life  out  of  every  green 
thing  where  it  goes.  It  is  amazing  to  stand  on 
this  sea  of  sand,  where  you  can  see  nothing  but 
the  naked  country  around  you.  On  learning  of 
this  great  desert  lying  off  the  southwest  part  of 
Kansas,  I  was  not  surprised  at  the  hot  winds 
which  come  from  that  direction,  sweeping  across 
Kansas  and  Nebraska,  and  burning  everything 
in  the  way. 

Our  meat  being  dried,  we  turned  our  course 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  55 

for  home,  which  we  reached  in  due  time,  and 
pronounced  our  hunt  a  failure. 

At  another  time  brother  Edward  and  I  were 
out  on  the  range  alone.  After  finishing  our 
hunt,  we  started  for  home,  and  were  overtaken 
by  a  dreadful  snowstorm.  Having  no  tent  or 
wagon-cover,  we  raised  the  wagon-tongue  from 
the  ground,  stretched  a  green  buffalo-hide  over 
it,  and  crawled  under,  and  out  of  the  pelting 
storm.  Hunters  were  frequently  caught  on  the 
range  in  a  snowstorm,  and  perished.  Some  of 
them,  overtaken  by  the  storm,  and  without  shel- 
ter, have  had  the  forethought  to  shoot  down  a 
buffalo,  take  out  the  entrails,  and  crawl  in  to 
save  their  lives.  I  remember  being  on  the  buf- 
falo ground  with  my  brother  Joel,  who  is  now 
in  heaven.  After  our  wagons  were  loaded,  and 
we  had  started  for  home,  the  Indians  came  upon 
us  where  we  had  camped  for  the  night,  and 
seemed  to  be  very  angry  because  of  our  killing 
the  buffaloes.  These  they  claimed  as  their  own, 
as  the  domestic  ox  was  ours,  and  said  if  we  did 
not  cease  shooting  their  cattle  they  would  shoot 
ours.  Being  far  out  on  the  plains,  and  alone, 
we  felt  somewhat  uneasy,  knowing  that  we  were 


56  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

at  the  mercy  of  these  savages.  After  severely 
threatening  us,  to  our  joy  they,  left,  and  we  saw 
them  no  more.  The  next  morning  we  started 
for  home  with  a  clear  sky;  but  the  clouds  soon 
gathered,  and  the  rain  began  to  fall,  and  con- 
tinued day  and  night  until  we  reached  our  desti- 
nation. The  last  night  out,  we  traveled  nearly 
all  night  in  the  rain.  If  the  reader  would  know 
something  of  our  suffering,  let  him  imagine  him- 
self in  the  cold  rain  all  night  long,  and  very 
poorly  clad  at  that,  and  he  may  have  an  idea  how 
we  suffered,  being  soaked  and  chilled  by  the 
weather.  We  reached  home  at  last,  our  wagon 
laden  with  meat  and  with  wolf  and  buffalo  hides. 
The  meat  being  thoroughly  wet,  we  found  it 
necessary  to  dry  it  as  at  the  first. 

Hunting  the  buffalo  is  not  a  very  profitable 
business,  and  is  attended  with  much  danger  from 
Indians,  buffaloes,  and  the  furious  snowstorms 
of  the  plains.  My  own  father  had  some  narrow 
escapes  from  the  bloody  hands  of  the  Indians. 
Having  been  away  from  camp  all  the  afternoon, 
he  was  returning,  when  he  saw  a  number  of  In- 
dians trying  to  cut  him  off.  He  was  then  riding 
a  small  pony,  and  his  only  safety  was  in  flight; 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  57 

for  if  he  could  reach  camp  before  overtaken,  the 
Indians  would  not  dare  attack  the  outfit;  so  it 
was  a  race  for  the  camp.  His  pony,  being  of  a 
lazy  disposition,  was  not  inclined  to  do  its  best 
in  the  race,  and  father  drew  the  ramrod  from  his 
gun  to  urge  it  on,  the  Indians  all  the  while  gain- 
ing on  him  as  they  ran.  Just  before  they  reached 
him,  the  camp  was  in  sight,  and  the  Indians  faced 
about  and  disappeared  in  the  distance.  Another 
time  the  Indians  tried  to  take  him  while  out 
hunting  on  foot.  Again,  as  before,  they  were 
aiming  to  cut  off  his  retreat  to  camp.  Taking  in 
the  situation  at  a  glance,  he  saw  it  was  quite 
perilous,  for  they  were  on  fleet  horses  and  he  on 
foot;  there  was  no  time  to  waste,  as  they  were 
coming  like  the  wind;  so  the  race  began.  Hav- 
ing much  the  advantage  in  distance,  he  got 
within  call  of  the  camp  before  they  could  over- 
take him.  As  soon  as  they  saw  the  men  there, 
they  gave  up  the  chase  and  disappeared  among 
the  hills.  They  are  a  cowardly  set,  and  will 
hardly  ever  attack  their  equal  in  numbers. 

For  the  information  of  the  reader  who  may 
not  know  the  Indian,  I  will  say  that  no  man  is 
safe  among  them  where  it  is  possible  to  kill  him 


58  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

and  they  not  be  caught  in  the  crime — unless  he 
is  willing  to  become  an  Indian  among  Indians. 
I  have  heard  so  much  about  the  "noble  sons  of 
the  forest,"  of  their  excellent  traits  of  character, 
and  how  they  may  be  trusted  by  those  who  have 
befriended  them,  that,  did  I  not  know  better,  I 
might  think  that  he  who  has  befriended  them 
might  go  among  them  in  perfect  safety.  While 
it  is  true  that  there  are  a  few  Indians  in  the  wild 
state  who  would  spare  the  life  of  one  who  had 
befriended  them,  yet  the  great  mass  of  them  care 
nothing  for  the  life  of  the  white  man,  whether 
friend  or  foe.  The  wishes  of  the  better  class 
are  unheeded,  and  the  vile  and  bloodthirsty  rule 
the  tribe.  My  experience  with  Indians,  and  it 
has  been  extensive,  has  taught  me  that  it  is 
unsafe  for  any  white  man,  who  has  not  allied 
himself  with  them,  to  be  found  by  them  on  the 
plains  alone,  whether  he  be  friend  or  foe.  No 
matter  what  unchristianized  tribes  they  may  be, 
all  with  which  I  am  acquainted  are  alike  in  this 
respect.  I  have  been  on  the  plains  with  differ- 
ent tribes  of  Indians,  some  of  whom  were  em- 
ployed as  Government  soldiers  for  the  purpose 
of  protecting  the  builders  of  the  Union  Pacific 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  59 

Railroad  from  the  wild  Indians.  These  soldiers 
were  supplied  with  Government  arms,  provi- 
sions, and  clothing,  and  received  soldiers'  wages. 
At  the  same  time  it  was  quite  unsafe  for  a  lone 
white  man  to  be  caught  out  of  sight  of  camp  by 
them,  where  they  could  kill  him  and  make  it  ap- 
pear that  the  wild  Indians  did  it,  as  it  was  to 
meet  the  wild  ones  themselves.  I  know  whereof 
I  speak;  for  I  speak  from  experience. 

Hence  you  see,  gentle  reader,  that,  if  we 
would  subdue  the  bloodthirsty  savage,  and  make 
of  him  a  safe  companion,  he  must  be  Christian- 
ized by  being  brought  under  the  influence  of 
the  gospel. 


CHAPTER  HI 

Move  to  Nebraska— Move  to  the  Big  Blue  River— Our 
House  — Hunting  Elk  — Experience  with  the  In- 
dians—The First  Religious  Meetings  on  the  Blue 
Valley  in  Butler  County. 

Leaving  Kansas,  or  the  Kansas  Plains,  in 
the  year  1862,  we  moved  to  Nebraska,  where 
we  have  since  made  our  home.  Our  first  stop- 
ping-place in  the  State  was  on  Salt  Creek,  in 
Lancaster  County,  not  far  from  where  the  city 
of  Lincoln  now  stands.  Coming  to  the  coun- 
try late  in  the  season,  the  only  work  we  could 
find  was  picking  corn  for  some  of  the  farmers 
who  had  preceded  us  to  this  part  of  the  West. 
After  providing  a  sufficient  supply  of  grain  to 
carry  us  and  our  teams  through  the  winter, 
we  moved  out  on  the  valley  of  the  Big  Blue 
River,  in  Butler  County,  and  settled  near  where 
the  town  of  Ulysses  now  stands.  There  we 
took  claims,  intending  the  place  should  be  our 
future  home.     The  first  house  we  occupied  in 

that  wild  country  was  a  trapper's  shanty,  con- 

60 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  6l 

sisting  of  a  hole  in  the  ground,  covered  with 
poles,  grass,  and  dirt.  Our  company  was  com- 
posed of  three  men,  one  woman,  and  a  child. 

Our  house  being  only  about  ten  feet  square, 
we  found  it  very  small  quarters  for  five  persons 
to  winter  in;  but  as  the  early  settlers,  in  their 
small  houses,  could  always  find  room  for  one 
more,  we  had  ample  room  for  any  traveler  who 
might  seek  shelter  under  our  roof. 

Having  nothing  to  do,  and  living  so  far  from 
neighbors,  time  seemed  to  move  exceedingly 
slow.  However,  some  of  our  time  was  occu- 
pied in  hunting  the  elk  and  trapping  the  beaver, 
both  of  which  abounded  in  that  locality.  In 
this  way  we  got  a  supply  of  meat  to  drive  away 
hunger,  and  furs  to  keep  us  warm. 

One  bright,  beautiful  day,  such  as  is  often 
seen  in  Nebraska,  brother  Richard  and  I  went  in 
search  of  game,  thinking  to  have  some  sport 
and  also  replenish  the  larder.  After  several 
miles'  travel,  we  discovered  a  small  herd  of  elks 
leisurely  feeding  on  the  dry  grass.  Being  so 
far  out  on  the  broad,  open  prairie,  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  get  within  gunshot  of  them;  but  by 
crawling  on  the  ground  like  a  tortoise  for  nearly 


62  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

half  a  mile,  we  got  near  enough  to  shoot  them. 
By  this  time  they  had  all  lain  down,  thus  mak- 
ing a  very  poor  target  to  shoot  at.  To  make 
sure  of  our  game,  we  decided  to  remain  flat  on 
the  ground  until  some  of  them  should  rise. 
After  we  had  been  lying  thus  perhaps  for  an 
hour,  two  of  them  arose  to  their  feet,  stretched 
themselves,  and  stood  broadside  toward  us. 
We  fired,  and  brought  them  both  to  the  ground. 
We  were  now  some  eight  or  ten  miles  from 
home,  with  the  sun  nearly  down.  To  leave  our 
game  unguarded  during  the  night  was  only  to 
abandon  it  for  the  wolves  to  devour;  so  it  was 
determined  that  I  should  remain  on  guard  dur- 
ing the  night,  while  my  brother  went  home 
after  the  team.  You  may  be  sure  I  had  a 
lonely  time  that  night;  for  the  hungry  wolves 
all  about  me  kept  up  a  continual  howling,  as 
if  they  would  come  and  force  me  from  my  post. 
The  next  morning,  bright  and  early,  we  were 
on  our  way  home  with  a  good  supply  of  elk- 
meat. 

During  our  stay  in  that  lonely  place  we 
found  far  more  Indians  than  white  men.  The 
former  frequently  came  to  our  house,  sometimes 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  63 

for  the  purpose  of  begging,  and  sometimes  just 
for  a  friendly  call.  Some  of  them  were  kind 
and  trusty,  but  a  large  majority  of  them  would 
plunder,  steal,  and  lie.  By  frequently  coming 
in  contact  with  them,  we  learned  some  of  their 
Indian  ways.  Among  other  things,  we  learned 
something  about  their  laws  in  regard  to  mar- 
ried life.  They  practice  polygamy,  some  of 
them  having  two  or  more  wives.  If  a  young 
man  had  no  pony,  he  could  have  no  wife.  If 
he  had  one  pony,  he  was  entitled  to  one  wife; 
but  if  he  was  the  owner  of  two  or  more  ponies 
he  could  have  at  least  two  wives.  The  men 
seemed  well  pleased  with  such  laws,  but  the 
women  hated  them  with  the  most  bitter  hatred. 
One  of  the  squaws  said  to  a  white  man :  "Chad 
stocok  [white  man]  heap  good;  he  have  one 
wife.  Pawnee  [yellow  man]  no  good;  he  have 
two  wives."  A  young  chief  by  the  name  of 
Peter  Warnxty  frequented  our  place,  often 
bringing  his  two  wives,  who  were  sisters. 
Those  wives  were  so  bitter  against  each  other 
that  the  husband  was  compelled  to  provide  them 
with  separate  tents  in  order  to  prevent  blood- 
shed, and  possibly  the  death  of  one  of  his  wives. 


64  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

At  one  time  we  invited  the  young  chief  and 
his  wives  to  come  and  take  supper  with  us.  At 
the  appointed  time  came  Peter  and  his  newly- 
wedded  wife,  leaving  the  other  at  home.  We 
asked  him  why  he  did  not  bring  his  other  wife. 
He  said,  "O,  they  won't  both  go  with  me  at 
the  same  time." 

The  last  time  those  Indians  visited  our  place 
we  did  them  many  little  favors,  and  they  seemed 
exceedingly  friendly;  but  on  leaving  us  they 
stole  all  the  little  things  they  could  get  their 
hands  on,  and  drove  off  one  of  our  horses. 
Thus  you  see  how  kindness  wrought  upon  their 
unenlightened  consciences.  Some  of  the  set- 
tlers who  came  to  Nebraska  still  earlier  than 
we  related  to  us  some  of  their  troubles  with 
the  "red-skins,"  somewhere  on  Salt  Creek,  in 
Lancaster  County.  They  said  thieving  and  mur- 
dering bands  often  passed  through  that  locality, 
giving  the  settlers  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  On 
one  occasion,  in  the  absence  of  the  family,  they 
broke  into  a  man's  house,  and  gathered  up  all 
the  meat  he  had  stored  away  for  the  winter,  and 
made  off  with  it.  But  before  they  had  gone 
far,   the   theft  was   discovered,   the  alarm   was 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  65 

given,  and  the  whole  community  rose  up  in  arms 
and  followed  them  in  hot  pursuit.  Overtaking 
them,  they  punished  them  severely,  beating 
some  down  with  clubs  and  axes,  and  giving  oth- 
ers a  sound  flogging.  On  another  occasion, 
while  the  Indians  were  in  the  same  locality,  and 
the  whites  were  having  trouble  with  them,  dur- 
ing the  night,  an  old  "buck"  Indian  crawled  up 
into  the  branches  of  a  large  tree,  which  almost 
overshadowed  the  door  of  a  white  man's  house, 
intending  to  murder  him  as  soon  as  he  should 
emerge  from  his  door  in  the  morning.  Unhap- 
pily, however,  for  the  would-be  murderer,  the 
first  thing  the  settler  did  after  getting  out  of 
bed,  was  to  look  through  the  window  and  dis- 
cover Mr.  Indian  sitting  on  his  perch  among 
the  branches  of  the  tree.  Lifting  the  window 
sufficiently  to  poke  his  gun  out  through  the 
opening,  he  fired,  leaving  one  savage  less  to 
disturb  the  quiet  of  that  neighborhood.  After 
this  fatal  incident,  the  Red  Men  left  that  locality 
in  peaceable  possession  of  the  white  settlers. 

After  winter  had  passed  with  its  cold,  stormy 
winds,  and  the  warm  sun  had  brought  new  life 
to  earth,  we  set  to  work  building  houses  and 
S 


66  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

making  general  preparation  for  the  cultivation 
of  the  soil  on  our  claims. 

In  the  summer  of  1863  our  parents  came, 
and  settled  near  us,  making  now  eight  souls 
in  that  lonely  place.  Our  youngest  brother,  who 
came  with  our  parents,  composed  one  of  the 
number.  We  were  about  thirty  miles  from  any 
other  settler,  and  no  post-office  nor  trading- 
point  nearer  than  that.  Having  no  neighbors, 
and  no  religious  gatherings  or  Church  privi- 
leges, we  soon  tired  of  our  condition  in  that 
then  wild  and  desolate  country.  As  there  was 
no  religious  service  within  reach  of  us,  we  de- 
termined to  have  something  of  the  kind  in  fa- 
ther's house  on  Sunday;  and  I  think  I  can 
safely  say  that  the  first  religious  gathering  in 
that  part  of  Butler  County  was  in  the  summer 
of  1863,  when  father  gathered  his  own  family, 
at  his  own  residence,  to  worship  the  Lord.  I  am 
quite  sure  that  we  were,  at  least,  the  first  white 
settlers  to  sound  the  praises  and  glory  of  God 
in  that  part  of  the  Big  Blue  Valley.  Becom- 
ing dissatisfied  with  our  situation,  in  the  fall 
of  1863  we  all  moved  to  Gage  County,  near 
Beatrice,  and   left   our  claims   for  others   who 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  67 

might  come  and  occupy  them.  In  Gage  County 
we  found  the  white  man's  schools  and  churches. 
We  now  began  farming  in  earnest,  looking  for- 
ward to  times  of  plenty,  comfort,  and  ease;  but 
our  expectations  have  not  yet  been  realized. 

Nebraska,  like  all  other  countries,  has  its 
drawbacks.  Sometimes  we  have  dry  weather, 
sometimes  hot  winds,  and  sometimes  the  grass- 
hoppers have  eaten  us  out.  All  of  these  things 
combined  made  it  doubly  hard  for  the  first  set- 
tlers of  Nebraska.  We  have  seen  the  grass- 
hoppers coming  in  clouds,  having  the  appear- 
ance of  an  approaching  snowstorm.  Some- 
times they  poured  down  upon  us  like  hail  out 
of  a  dark  storm-cloud,  covering  the  ground  in 
a  few  minutes.  No  one  who  has  not  seen  the 
ravages  of  those  hungry  pests  can  know  how 
destructive  they  are.  We  have  known  of  their 
alighting  on  a  field  of  corn  nearly  a  foot  high, 
and  taking  a  twenty-acre  piece  in  less  than  three 
hours'  time,  leaving  it  as  bare  as  though  it 
had  never  been  planted. 

Sometimes  the  dry  weather  and  the  rav- 
ages of  the  'hoppers  occasioned  great  scarcity 
and   very    high    prices,    and    the    homesteaders 


68  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

were  much  straitened  for  food.  I  have  known 
families  who  are  now  in  good  circumstances  to 
sit  down  to  a  table  with  but  little  more  than 
boiled  wheat  and  potatoes  for  a  meal.  I  call 
to  mind  one  winter  in  the  early  days  of  Gage 
County,  when  there  was  a  scant  supply  of  pro- 
visions throughout  the  country,  and  about  all 
the  people  obtained  was  drawn  with  teams  from 
somewhere  on  the  Missouri  River.  At  the  time 
to  which  I  refer  the  merchants  who  supplied 
the  community  with  the  necessaries  of  life  were 
very  scantily  furnished  with  provisions,  and  they 
sent  out  teams  for  a  new  supply.  Soon  after 
they  were  gone,  there  came  a  heavy  snowfall, 
blockading  the  roads  and  detaining  the  teams 
long  past  their  allotted  time.  Because  of  this 
delay,  food  became  scarce,  and  men  grew  des- 
perate and  impatient;  and  you  know  that  a 
hungry  man  is  soon  out  of  patience  anyway. 
After  almost  giving  up  the  arrival  of  the  teams 
in  despair,  some  of  the  men  concluded  they 
would  rather  eat  coon-meat  than  starve;  so 
out  they  sallied  for  a  coon-hunt,  and  their  ef- 
forts were  rewarded  with  three  nice  coons. 
Their  game  was  nicely  dressed   and  as   nicely 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  69 

cooked,  and  all  who  were  so  fortunate  as  to  be 
permitted  to  partake  of  the  feast  declared  the 
first  coon  very  good.  When  they  began  to  eat 
the  second  coon,  it  was  not  so  good,  and  the 
third  was  very  poor  eating  indeed.  One  of  the 
men,  in  describing  his  experience,  said,  "One 
coon  is  very  good  eating,  two  coons  are  not  so 
good,  and  I  can  not  go  the  third  coon  at  all." 
However,  I  should  think  that  a  real  hungry 
man  might  relish  even  the  third  coon. 


CHAPTER  IV 

The   General   Slaughter   of  the   Settlers  on  L,ittle 
Blue  River  in  1864. 

In  the  fall  of  1864  mv  brother  Richard  and 
I  purchased  a  mowing-machine,  and  went  up 
the  Little  Blue  Valley  as  far  as  Spring  Ranch, 
in  Clay  County,  where  we  contracted  to  cut 
forty  tons  of  hay  for  James  Bainter,  the  owner 
of  the  ranch.  We  had  been  there  but  a  few 
days  when  it  was  rumored  that  farther  west, 
on  the  road,  the  Indians  were  stealing  horses 
and  killing  the  travelers  on  the  highway.  Be- 
ing used  to  Indian  scares,  at  first  we  paid  no 
attention  to  the  report.  The  country  being 
thinly  settled,  we  knew,  if  the  Indians  should 
make  a  raid  upon  the  people,  they  could  take 
the  entire  country  with  little  trouble  and  loss 
to  themselves. 

All  the  settlements  there  at  that  time  were 
along  the  Blue  River;  and  from  where  the  town 
of  Alexandria  now  stands  as  far  west  as  Spring 

70 


d 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  Jl 


Ranch  the  country  was  occupied  only  by  ranch- 
men, ranging  from  five  to  ten  miles  apart. 
s^~  There  was  a  great  deal  of  travel  over  this  wagon- 
road  from  St.  Joseph  to  Denver,  and  still  farther 
west;  and  especially  at  this  time  of  the  year  it 
was  literally  lined  with  teams,  carrying  either 
emigrants  or  freight  to  the  Western  market. 
Notwithstanding  there  were  so  many  men  on 
the  road,  they  were  poorly  prepared  to  protect 
themselves  if  attacked  by  the  Indians.  Among 
forty  or  fifty  men,  probably  not  more  than  five 
or  six  pieces  of  firearms  could  be  found.  The 
men,  expecting  no  trouble  on  leaving  home, 
had  made  no  preparation  for  self-defense. 

Rumors  continued  coming  from  the  West 
that  the  Indians  were  committing  depredations 
all  along  the  highway;  and  Richard  and  I,  con- 
cluding there  was  danger  of  an  attack  at  any 
time,  planned  accordingly.  We  had  three  horses 
with  us,  two  of  which  we  thought  were  very 
fleet.  Our  plan  was  as  follows:  We  were  mak- 
ing hay  up  the  valley  about  two  miles  from  the 
ranch.  We  determined  that,  at  the  first  sight 
of  an  Indian,  we  would  mount  the  two  best 
horses,  and  fly  for  our  lives,  leaving  the  third 


72  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

horse  to  follow  or  be  captured.  Some  of  the 
ranchmen  thought  there  was  danger,  while  oth- 
ers laughed  at  the  idea.  On  telling  our  plan 
to  some  of  them,  they  laughed  and  said,  "We 
will  not  run  if  the  Indians  do  come;  for  all  we 
have  in  this  world  is  here,  and  if  it  goes  down, 
we  will  go  with  it."  You  know,  some  men  are 
good  choppers  in  time  of  harvest  and  good  swim- 
mers in  the  dead  of  winter.  So  with  these  men. 
They  were  exceedingly  brave  when  they  thought 
there  was  no  danger,  but  not  so  brave  when 
danger  came,  as  the  sequel  will  show. 

The  Indian  excitement  somewhat  abated, 
and  we  began  to  feel  quite  easy.  On  Sunday, 
the  seventh  day  of  August,  we  went  down  the 
road  about  a  mile  to  Pawnee  Ranch,  which  was 
then  kept  by  a  Mr.  Medcalf,  and  were  invited 
to  spend  the  day.  The  forepart  of  the  day  was 
spent  in  eating  melons  and  in  general  conver- 
sation. The  weather  was  calm,  warm,  and  beau- 
tiful, and  there  was  a  great  deal  of  travel  on 
the  road;  for  the  people  out  here  paid  little  at- 
tention to  Sunday.  About  twelve  o'clock,  or 
soon  after,  Father  Comstock,  having  come  from 
a  ranch  not  far  from  old  Fort  Kearney,  was  on 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  73 

the  way  to  his  own  home  at  Oak  Grove  Ranch, 
perhaps  a  distance  of  forty  miles.  Soon  after 
his  arrival  the  women  began  to  prepare  din- 
ner, and  the  men  fell  into  conversation  about 
the  Indians.  About  half-past  three  o'clock  din- 
ner was  called.  While  the  company  were  at 
the  table,  some  remarks  were  made  about  the 
Indians  making  a  general  attack  along  the  road. 
But  as  rumors  were  not  so  frightful  as  in  the 
past,  we  concluded  there  was  no  cause  for  fear 
at  the  present  time.  Soon  after  dinner,  and 
after  Father  Comstock  had  departed,  some  one 
chanced  to  step  to  the  door,  and  saw  three  In- 
dians passing  the  house  on  horseback.  Rush- 
ing to  the  door,  we  saw  they  were  advancing 
toward  a  lone  man  coming  up  the  road  with 
a  load  of  corn.  At  a  glance  we  saw  they 
intended  to  murder  him.  Brother  and  I  went 
with  all  possible  haste  to  the  barn  for  our 
horses,  hoping  we  might  rescue  and  save  the 
man's  life.  On  entering  the  barn  we  found  the 
harness  on  our  horses,  which  caused  some  de- 
lay. By  the  time  the  harness  was  stripped  from 
the  horses,  and  we  were  mounted  and  at  the 
house  receiving  firearms,  the  Indians  had  shot 


74  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

and  were  scalping  the  unfortunate  man,  who  had 
fallen  from  his  wagon  into  the  dusty  road.  As 
we  started  from  the  house,  the  savages  mounted 
their  ponies,  and  were  off  like  an  arrow.  Brother 
and  I  followed  them  into  the  hills,  and  soon  lost 
sight  of  them.  At  first  we  were  able  to  keep 
pace  with  them,  and  did  shorten  the  distance 
between  them  and  ourselves,  until  we  began  to 
climb  the  hillside,  when  they  flew  away  from 
us  like  birds.  Wheeling  about,  we  returned, 
making  as  good,  and  perhaps  even  better, 
time  than  when  chasing  the  Indians;  for  we 
thought  others  might  be  lying  in  ambush,  and 
cut  off  our  retreat.  On  reaching  the  wounded 
man,  we  found  some  of  the  men  from  the  ranch 
there,  ministering  to  him  as  best  they  could. 
On  examining  the  wound,  it  was  discovered  that 
the  ball  had  entered  the  back  part  of  his  head 
and  come  out  through  the  mouth,  inflicting  a 
mortal  wound.  Notwithstanding  his  wound 
was  fatal,  he  could  talk,  and  seemed  quite  con- 
scious. Some  of  the  men  knew  him,  and  said, 
"It  is  Burk,  from  Beatrice."  Beatrice  was  our 
home  town,  not  far  from  our  farm.    So  I  thought 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  75 

Mr.  Burk  would  recognize  me,  and  said  to  him, 
"Mr.  Burk,  do  you  know  me?"  After  learning 
my  name,  he  said,  "Yes,  I  do." 

The  poor  fellow  fell  from  his  wagon,  and 
lay  there  wallowing  in  the  dust,  moaning  with 
pain.  When  he  fell  from  the  wagon,  his  team 
took  fright  and  ran  to  the  ranch.  Brother  and 
I  took  his  horses,  hitched  them  to  our  wagon, 
and,  with  the  help  of  other  men,  brought  him 
to  the  house.  After  getting  him  into  the  wagon, 
he  insisted  that  we  should  not  move  him  until 
he  was  dead,  begging  us  to  let  him  alone. 

He  was  cared  for  the  very  best  under  the 
circumstances.  But  we  knew  he  must  die,  and 
that  soon.  Just  before  the  going  down  of  the 
sun  his  spirit  took  its  flight.  Only  three  days 
before  this  awful  deed  this  man  left  his  wife  and 
children,  expecting  to  return  to  them  in  a  short 
time.  But  they  will  never  see  him  on  this  side 
of  eternity;  for  he  is  still  sleeping  in  his  lonely 
grave  by  the  roadside.  In  all  probability,  it 
was  more  than  a  week  before  his  family  knew  of 
their  loss.  There  being  no  coffin,  and  nothing 
out  of  which  to  make  one,  he  was  wrapped  in 


j6  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

his  own  blankets,  and  laid  away  to  await  the 
resurrection,  where  all  things  shall  be  made 
right. 

We  were  now  thoroughly  aroused  and  on 
guard.  All  the  available  guns  were  taken  from 
their  dusty  racks,  where  they  had  lain  unused 
for  weeks.  They  were  cleaned,  scoured,  and 
put  in  order  for  immediate  use.  Looking  for 
an  attack  any  moment,  we  therefore  made  every 
possible  preparation  for  defense.  After  all 
things  were  ready  for  a  bloody  conflict,  we  re- 
tired for  the  night.  He  who  has  lain  and  watched 
for  and  expected  an  attack  from  the  blood- 
thirsty tribes  may  know  something  of  our  anx- 
iety that  night.  Morning  came,  bright,  clear, 
and  beautiful,  with  no  sign  of  the  enemy  any- 
where, though  we  thought  they  were  some- 
where near. 

After  an  early  breakfast,  we  returned  to 
Spring  Ranch,  and,  after  packing  away  some  of 
Mr.  Bainter's  things,  we  loaded  a  wagon  with 
provisions  and  bedding;  and  all  moved  down  to 
Pawnee  Ranch,  where  Mr.  Burk  was  killed  and 
buried.  We  hoped  to  collect  enough  men  at 
this  place  to  protect  the  women  and  children 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  JJ 

of  the  two  ranches,  and  possibly  save  some  of 
our  property.  We  remained  there  all  that  day, 
preparing  for  another  attack,  but  as  yet  had  seen 
no  Indians  excepting  those  who  murdered  Mr. 
Burk. 

Up  to  this  time  we  had  heard  nothing  of 
the  ranchmen  on  either  side  of  us,  not  knowing 
whether  they  were  killed,  and  we  left  alone,  or 
whether  we  were  the  only  ones  disturbed. 

Monday  night  came,  bringing  no  report  from 
abroad,  and  leaving  us  to  watch  and  wait  in 
dread  suspense.  When  night  came,  we  set  a 
guard,  that  we  might  not  be  caught  unpre- 
pared, should  the  enemy  approach  in  the  dark- 
ness. There  being  but  few  pieces  of  firearms 
in  the  company,  the  women  gathered  up  all  the 
axes,  pitchforks,  and,  possibly,  broomsticks,  and 
brought  them  into  the  house,  to  be  used  in  case 
of  a  close  combat.  The  guard  had  been  out  on 
post  but  a  short  time,  when  bang!  went  his 
revolver;  and  the  next  moment  he  came  bound- 
ing pellmell  into  the  house,  causing  us  to  fly 
to  arms  ready  for  the  conflict.  Seeing  no  enemy, 
we  inquired  of  him  what  he  saw.  He  said  he 
saw  nothing,  but  heard  a  cracking  in  the  brush. 


78  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

There  were  loose  cattle  about  the  ranch,  which, 
more  than  likely,  made  the  noise  that  fright- 
ened him  from  his  post.  The  poor  fellow  was 
so  badly  scared  that  he  had  fired  a  shot  from  his 
revolver,  and  ran,  leaving  his  gun  standing  by 
a  tree.  By  the  way,  this  was  one  of  those  men 
who  was  so  brave  that  he  would  not  run  if  the 
Indians  should  come,  but  was  the  first  to  run, 
and  that,  too,  when  there  were  no  Indians  near. 
To  our  joy,  Monday  night  passed  without  our 
being  molested  by  the  savages.  Morning  came, 
seemingly  with  more  than  usual  beauty  and 
loveliness,  but  brought  us  no  news  as  to  the 
condition  of  those  around  us,  and  we  began  to 
think  that  all  the  other  people  on  the  road  were 
murdered. 

Shortly  after  breakfast  some  four  or  five  of 
us  mounted  our  horses  to  ascertain  the  condi- 
tion of  the  surrounding  country,  and,  if  possible, 
the  whereabouts  of  the  Indians.  We  had  gone 
not  more  than  two  hundred  yards  when  my 
brother  Richard's  horse  was  frightened  at  the 
guns,  and  became  unmanageable.  Not  being- 
allowed  to  run,  he  reared  up  so  far  that  he  fell 
backward.     As  the  horse  and  rider  came  to  the 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  79 

ground,  Richard's  gun  struck  the  ground  with 
such  force  that  its  contents  were  discharged  into 
one  of  his  legs.  The  ball,  entering  the  front 
part  of  his  leg,  passed  between  the  thigh-bone 
and  the  main  artery  inside  his  thigh.  His  leg 
being  bent  as  in  a  sitting  position,  the  ball  passed 
through  the  upper  part  of  the  limb,  entered  the 
calf  of  the  leg,  passed  through,  and  lodged  so 
near  the  surface  of  the  instep  that  it  was  taken 
out  with  a  jack-knife.  He  was  taken  back  to 
the  house,  and  his  wounds  were  dressed  accord- 
ing to  our  best  knowledge.  Mr.  Bainter,  who 
had  had  some  experience  in  dressing  wounds 
in  the  War  of  the  Rebellion,  took  him  in 
charge,  and  did  all  any  one  could  have  done 
under  the  circumstances.  The  bullet  that  passed 
through  his  leg  was  a  half-ounce  ball,  and  did 
fearful  execution  where  it  went,  though,  for 
some  cause,  it  broke  no  bones,  and  barely 
missed  the  large  artery  inside  his  thigh,  which, 
if  it  had  been  cut,  would  have  caused  his  death 
in  ten  minutes.  There  was  a  hole  in  the  upper 
part  of  his  leg  that,  in  dressing,  we  found  room 
to  draw  a  large  silk  handkerchief  through. 

This  put  an  end  to  our  reconnoitering  that 


80  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

day,  and  left  us  in  greater  suspense  than  before. 
Here  was  my  brother,  so  badly  wounded  that 
we  almost  despaired  of  his  life;  and,  while  he 
was  lying  here  helpless,  we  expected  the  Indians 
to  come  upon  us  at  any  moment. 

After  Richard  was  cared  for  and  made  as 
comfortable  as  possible  under  the  existing  cir- 
cumstances, parties  brought  us  the  sad  intelli- 
gence of  a  general  massacre  all  along  the  road 
for  eighty  miles  or  more.  We  learned  that  the 
people  for  forty  miles  on  either  side  of  us  were 
either  killed,  captured,  or  driven  from  their 
homes,  and  we — a  mere  handful  of  men,  with 
a  few  women  and  children — were  surrounded  by 
the  hostile  "red-skins,"  who  were  thirsting  for 
our  blood.  There  was  no  time  to  lose;  we  must 
prepare  for  emergencies.  This  we  did  by  roll- 
ing loaded  wagons  around  and  in  front  of  the 
house,  thus  forming  very  good  breastworks. 
After  all  things  were  ready  for  a  mortal  com- 
bat, we  had  only  to  wait  further  developments. 
News  of  the  most  horrible  murders  on  the  road, 
both  east  and  west  of  us,  kept  coming  in  all  the 
forenoon.  Some  of  the  ranchmen  who  had  es- 
caped the  murderers  came  to  us  for  protection, 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  8l 

thereby  strengthening  our  forces.  Before  night 
men  had  gathered  from  all  sides  of  us,  until  we 
were  about  forty  strong.  No  signs  of  Indians 
were  seen  until  near  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, at  which  time  smoke  was  seen  arising  high 
in  the  air  from  the  burning  buildings  down  the 
road.  Soon  after  seeing  the  smoke  in  the  dis- 
tance, two  Indians  were  seen  coming  up  the 
road,  leisurely  riding  along  as  if  they  were  in- 
nocent travelers  intending  to  harm  no  one. 
There  had  come  to  us  a  man  from  California, 
whom  we  called  "California  Joe."  He  said,  if 
we  would  let  him  take  his  choice  of  horses  from 
the  barn,  he  would  go  out  and  see  what  those 
fellows  wanted;  for  by  this  time  many  of  the 
stage-horses  had  been  run  in  for  protection,  and 
there  was  a  goodly  number  to  choose  from. 
Making  his  selection,  he  mounted  and  rode  out 
toward  the  Indians,  at  the  same  time  saying,  "I 
will  show  you  fellows  how  to  fight  Indians." 
He  had  gone  probably  not  more  than  four  hun- 
dred yards  when,  all  at  once,  like  magic,  Indians 
sprang  up  all  around  him,  coming  from  the  hills 
and  brush,  where  they  were  lying  in  ambush 
for  him  or  for  any  other  foolish  man  who  might 
6 


82  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

dare  to  venture  from  the  ranch.  Their  inten- 
tions were  to  cut  off  his  retreat,  and  have  their 
own  sport  in  murdering  him.  But  they  were  not 
quick  enough;  and  he  passed  between  them  as 
they  were  closing  in  upon  him  from  all  sides. 
Since  that  event  I  have  always  thought  that,  if 
white  men  had  so  completely  surrounded  an 
Indian  as  they  did  him,  he  would  have  been 
literally  riddled  to  pieces  with  bullets.  They 
seemed  to  have  ridden  within  fifteen  feet  of  him, 
and  fired;  yet  he  made  his  escape,  and  reached 
the  ranch  with  only  a  flesh  wound  in  the  muscle 
of  the  arm  above  the  elbow.  On  returning  to 
the  house  he  was  n't  half  so  brave  as  when  he 
left  it.  Not  knowing  how  badly  he  was 
wounded,  the  men  sprang  to  his  assistance,  only 
to  learn  that  he  was  more  frightened  than  hurt. 
With  the  combined  fright  and  pain  he  nearly 
swooned  away,  and  probably  would  have 
swooned  away  altogether  but  for  the  timely  aid 
of  a  brave  woman,  who  came  to  his  rescue  and 
led  him  away  to  bed.  Never  did  any  one  show 
more  bravery  and  presence  of  mind  in  time  of 
imminent  danger  than  some  of  the  women  at 
this  critical  hour.     While  the  Indians  were  in 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  83 

sight,  coming  towards  the  ranch,  some  of  the 
women  were  busily  engaged  molding  rifle-balls 
for  the  men,  thus  making  ready  for  the  fray. 
The  reader  may  be  sure  that  this  was  a  trying 
time  for  me.  Here  was  my  helpless  brother  to 
be  cared  for,  the  Indians  defiantly  coming  on  to 
attack  the  ranch,  and  we  knew  not  whether 
there  were  hundreds  or  thousands  of  them. 
Seeing  the  savages,  I  went  to  my  brother,  and 
told  him  they  were  coming.  After  inquiring 
how  many  there  were,  he  said,  "If  they  should 
overcome  you,  and  you  can  save  your  life  by 
flight,  do  n't  stop  for  me,  but  fly  at  once."  I 
told  him  I  should  never  leave,  but  would  stay 
with  him  to  the  last,  as  any  kindly  brother 
would  have  done.  We  determined  that,  if  we 
were  overcome,  to  spend  our  lives  as  dearly  as 
possible,  and  die  together.  To  us  this  was  an 
exceedingly  trying  time;  but  we  took  it  to  the 
Lord,  and  asked  him  to  help  us.  In  the  hour 
of  extreme  peril  we  found  it  good  to  look  to 
the  Lord  for  help. 

When  the  Indians  were  first  seen  coming  up 
the  road,  there  was  great  excitement  at  the 
ranch.     I  well  remember  one  poor,  wicked  fel- 


84  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

low  who,  at  the  sight  of  the  Indians,  cried  like 
a  child.  While  the  enemy  approached,  we  were 
posting  guards  around  the  house.  Some  were 
hid  in  the  weeds,  and  some  in  the  barn. 
When  the  invaders  began  firing  at  the  house, 
a  man  by  the  name  of  Joe  Roper  climbed  upon 
the  house  to  see  what  they  were  doing.  But 
the  whizzing  balls  came  flying  so  close  to  his 
head  that  he  concluded  to  take  a  lower  posi- 
tion, at  least  for  the  time.  The  day  of  the  gen- 
eral raid  the  Indians  had  taken  captive  a  daugh- 
ter of  his,  which  caused  him  to  swear  vengeance 
against  them.  This  incident  we  shall  notice 
further  on,  as  we  proceed  with  our  narrative. 
The  Indians  saw  that  we  had  the  advantage  of 
them  in  our  breastworks,  and  they  dared  not 
venture  within  rifle  range  of  the  house,  but  kept 
at  a  good  distance  from  us.  Being  thus  far 
away,  they  elevated  their  guns  so  high  that 
they  shot  far  above  our  heads,  hardly  aiming 
low  enough  to  strike  the  house.  Occasionally 
the  boys  from  the  ranch  would  send  them  a 
volley  of  lead,  to  remind  them  that  we  were 
there  and  ready  for  them.  The  firing  on  both 
sides  continued  for  some  time,  when  the  Indians 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  85 

ceased  and  mostly  disappeared  from  sight.  We 
conjectured  that  they  were  waiting  re-enforce- 
ments, or  planning  an  attack.  An  Indian,  rid- 
ing a  beautiful  white  pony,  was  seen  circling 
about  on  the  far  hillside,  in  order  to  get  the 
barn  between  himself  and  the  house.  We  sup- 
posed he  and  his  companions  intended  making 
their  way  to  the  barn,  which  would  give  them, 
as  they  thought,  safe  shelter  from  our  guns  and 
an  equal  chance  in  the  fight.  When  we  first  saw 
them  coming,  we  took  in  the  situation,  and 
placed  a  guard  in  the  barn,  to  prevent  their  get- 
ting into  it. 

The  savage  on  the  white  pony  circled  around 
until  he  was  behind  the  barn  and  sheltered  from 
our  guns  at  the  house.  Knowing  there  was  a 
safe  guard  in  the  barn,  we  laughed  to  see  the 
savage  steal  his  way  there.  The  guard  saw  him 
coming,  poked  his  gun  through  a  hole,  and 
waited  until  he  came  within  a  few  rods  of  the 
barn,  and  then  touched  the  trigger.  The  cap 
snapped.  The  gun  missed  fire,  and  away  went 
his  game.  If  ever  an  Indian  made  his  pony  run, 
I  think  that  one  did.  He  seemed  to  fly  like  a 
bird,  and  his  shield  sailed  behind  him  like  a  kite 


86  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

in  the  breeze.  While  he  was  running  for  dear 
life,  the  boys  at  the  ranch  raised  a  yell,  and  sent 
a  volley  of  bullets  after  him,  causing  him  to  run, 
as  the  boys  said,  "as  if  the  devil  was  after  him." 
We  afterwards  learned  that  this  white  pony  was 
regarded  as  the  fleetest  horse  on  the  plains,  and 
one  of  the  great  chiefs  rode  it  during  his  suc- 
cessful fighting  in  a  former  massacre  of  the 
whites.  If  the  reader  likes  to  hear  swearing, 
he  should  have  been  there  to  hear  that  guard 
when  his  gun  missed  fire.  He  swore  much  of 
the  time  all  that  night  and  all  the  next  day,  and, 
for  aught  I  know,  may  be  still  at  it. 

The  Indians,  defeated  in  securing  the  barn 
for  a  fortification,  tried  another  scheme.  A  low 
bank  ran  from  near  the  river,  and  lay  close  to 
the  house,  behind  which  they  could  creep  under 
cover,  and  get  within  easy  range  of  the  men  de- 
fending the  house.  But  they  were  soon  caught 
at  that  trick.  One  of  our  men  climbed  into  the 
upper  part  of  the  house,  knocked  out  a  bit  of  the 
chinking,  and  opened  a  hole  through  which  to 
shoot.  The  man's  wife,  being  in  the  company, 
climbed  up  beside  her  husband.  They  had  been 
there  but  a  short  time  when  we  heard  a  report 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  87 

from  the  man's  gun.     A  moment  after  the  re- 
port, the  woman  poked  her  head  through  the 
upper  floor,  and  cheerfully  cried  out,  "Jim  has 
killed  one."     We  were  now  hopeful,  even  con- 
fident,  that  we  could  hold  the   fort  and  repel 
the  enemy.     Joy  and  gladness  now  seemed  to 
flash    from    every    countenance.      The    Indians 
thought   they   could   creep   up   under   cover   of 
that  bank  and  shoot  the  men  at  the  house,  then 
drop  back  behind  the  bank  from  sight.    On  rais- 
ing their  heads  high  enough  to  see  us,  the  guard 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  house  fired  into  them, 
bringing  some  of  them  closer  to  the  ground, 
even  lower  than  when  they  were  creeping  there. 
We  could  now  see,  as  we  thought,  that  the  In- 
dians were  giving  up  the  enterprise;  for  they 
ceased   firing,   and   began   to   disappear   in   the 
brush.    For  a  short  time  all  was  quiet,  and  there 
was  a  great  calm.     This  deathlike  stillness  was 
broken  by  the  frightened   cattle  running  with 
all    possible    speed    toward    the    ranch.      We 
thought  the  savages  were  driving  the  cattle  to- 
ward  the   house,    following   close   behind,    and 
using  them  as  a  shelter  from  our  guns.    Prepara- 
tions were  now  made  for  a  hand-to-hand  fight. 


88  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

With  our  guns  presented  ready  to  shoot,  we 
stood  our  ground,  only  to  see  the  cattle  come 
up  to  the  house  feathered  with  arrows.  Then 
the  Indians  withdrew,  leaving  us  in  possession 
of  the  fort.  When  they  gave  up  the  fight,  and 
could  do  nothing  else,  they  shot  arrows  into 
the  cattle  that  were  feeding  upon  the  common. 
After  shooting  the  cattle,  they  went  to  Spring 
Ranch  (Mr.  Bainter's  house),  and  fired  it  and 
everything  around  it  that  would  burn.  That 
was  a  great  loss  to  Mr.  Bainter;  for  he  kept  a 
general  stock  of  groceries  and  a  large  amount 
of  hay  and  corn,  all  of  which  were  burned  to 
ashes.  He  was  only  one  of  the  many  that  suf- 
fered such  a  loss.  Most  of  the  ranches  on  the 
road,  for  miles  each  way,  were  burned  to  the 
ground.  Before  the  Indians  burned  Liberty 
Farm  Ranch,  some  of  our  neighboring  men  took 
a  coach,  such  as  was  used  on  the  stage-line,  and 
went  to  the  ranch  to  save  groceries  that  were  in 
store  there.  They  loaded  their  valuables,  and 
started  on  the  return  trip,  when,  in  some  un- 
known way,  the  things  in  the  coach  took  fire. 
Before  they  were  aware  of  the  fire,  they  were 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  89 

startled  by  pistol  reports  in  quick  succession, 
one  after  another.  At  first  they  thought  the 
Indians  were  attacking  them,  but  soon  learned 
that  the  firing  was  inside  the  coach.  Under  ex- 
treme excitement  they  had  thrown  into  the  coach 
drygoods,  boxes,  cotton,  clothes,  matches,  and 
revolvers,  all  together.  The  fire  getting  beyond 
control,  they  lifted  the  top  of  the  coach  from 
the  running-gears,  and  let  it  and  its  contents 
burn. 

The  fight  at  Pawnee  Ranch  began  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  continued  until  the 
shades  of  night  were  falling  around  us,  when 
the  savages  left  us,  with  only  one  wounded  from 
their  guns.  This  was  California  Joe,  who  had 
shown  us  how  to  fight  Indians;  and,  but  for  his 
foolhardiness,  he  might  not  have  been  hurt. 

The  night  after  the  battle  at  the  ranch  a 
strong  guard  was  posted.  I  took  a  station,  and 
at  the  same  time  had  the  care  of  my  brother, 
who  was  so  badly  wounded  that  we  found  it  nec- 
essary to  bathe  his  leg  at  least  every  ten  minutes 
with  cold  water  to  keep  down  the  fever.  We 
were  in  great  suspense  all  night  long,  thinking 


90  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

the  Indians  were  only  awaiting  re-enforcements, 
and  would  return  with  redoubled  force,  and  give 
us  another  battle. 

Never  was  daylight  hailed  with  greater  joy 
than  when  the  morning  light  streamed  in  upon 
us  at  that  time.  Sunrise  found  us  hurriedly 
preparing  to  evacuate  the  post  (ranch).  But 
how  could  we  fly  with  the  sick  and  wounded? 
There  was  my  brother,  dangerously  injured, 
and  California  Joe  shot  through  the  arm.  Be- 
sides these  wounded  men,  a  woman  in  the  com- 
pany had  given  birth  to  a  child  when  the  In- 
dians were  making  their  first  attack  on  the 
ranch.  There  was  one  stage-coach  in  the  com- 
pany, into  which  California  Joe  and  the  sick 
woman  were  placed.  After  admitting  women  to 
care  for  the  sick,  there  was  no  room  in  the  coach 
for  my  brother,  and,  that  being  the  only  spring- 
wagon  of  any  kind  in  the  entire  outfit,  the  re- 
maining choice  was  to  put  my  brother  into  a 
lumber  wagon,  and  thus  carry  him,  though  it 
should  take  his  life,  of  which  we  were  afraid. 

We  had  a  wonderfully  exciting  time  in  get- 
ting ready  to  leave.  Men  who,  before  the  In- 
dians came,  said,  "We  will  die  beside  our  prop- 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  91 

erty,"  were  now  the  most  anxious  to  get  away 
and  leave  everything",  that  they  might  save  them- 
selves. The  men  who,  in  the  thickest  of  the 
fight,  were  calm  and  thoughtful,  now  lost  all 
control  of  themselves,  and  hardly  knew  what 
they  were  doing.  When  the  wagon  was  ready 
for  my  brother,  the  men  were  so  excited  I  could 
hardly  get  any  one  to  help  me  lift  him  into  it. 
We  would  speak  to  some  one  to  help,  who  would 
say,  "Yes,  in  just  a  minute;"  and  that  was  the 
last  we  would  see  of  him.  Before  the  procession 
was  ready  to  move,  we  prevailed  on  two  or  three 
to  help  put  him  into  the  wagon.  We  then 
pulled  out  for  Fort  Kearney,  some  forty  miles 
away.  The  day's  march  for  the  fort  was  a  try- 
ing time  to  me.  The  jolting  of  the  wagon  over 
the  rough  ground  caused  my  brother  to  suffer 
excruciating  pain  nearly  all  the  way,  and  we 
could  travel  only  at  a  very  slow  pace,  while  the 
other  teams  went  off  in  a  sweeping  trot,  leaving 
us  far  in  the  rear  and  an  easy  prey  for  the  sav- 
ages, should  they  come  upon  us. 

Besides  caring  for  the  team  and  keeping  a 
constant  lookout  for  Indians,  I  was  required  to 
bathe  my  brother's  leg  about  every  ten  minutes. 


92  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

In  this  way  we  traveled  that  long  distance,  most 
of  the  time  alone.  We  do  n't  wish  to  make  it 
appear  that  those  men  intended  to  be  unkind, 
but  merely  to  show  they  were  so  excited  that 
they  did  not  realize  how  unkindly  they  were 
acting. 

For  forty  long  miles,  through  the  scorch- 
ing sun  and  burning  sand,  the  sick  and  wounded 
were  carried  without  the  slightest  injury,  except- 
ing the  pain  given  my  brother  while  riding.  The 
ranchmen  where  we  stopped  for  the  night  were 
glad  to  entertain  us  for  the  sake  of  our  com- 
pany. Before  the  Indian  excitement  a  night's 
lodging  at  this  same  ranch  would  have  cost  us 
at  least  one  dollar  each.  The  following  morn- 
ing the  company,  who  together  had  fled  from 
Pawnee  Ranch,  separated,  some  going  east  down 
the  Platte  River,  and  others  going  on  farther 
west.  I  remained  at  Fort  Kearney  to  care  for 
my  brother,  whom  we  had  sent  there  the  night 
before,  after  we  had  stopped  for  the  night. 

On  going  to  the  hospital  at  the  fort,  I  found 
Richard  well  cared  for  and  doing  well;  so  I  en- 
gaged to  work  there  as  a  nurse,  and  remained 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  93 

until  he  was  nearly  able  to  be  taken  home. 
When  he  was  so  far  recovered  that  the  doctor 
thought  he  might  be  safely  removed,  I  deter- 
mined to  go  home  and  get  a  spring-wagon  in 
which  he  could  be  carried  with  ease  and  safety. 
Putting  a  cover  on  a  light  spring-wagon,  an- 
other brother  and  I  went  back  to  the  fort  after 
him.  On  our  homeward  journey  all  was  well 
until  the  evening  of  the  first  day  after  leaving 
the  fort.  Darkness  overtook  us  before  finding 
a  good  camping-place,  and  we  were  traveling  at 
a  rapid  gait,  when,  all  at  once,  we  saw  what  we 
thought  to  be  hundreds  of  Indians  coming  to- 
wards us  on  the  run.  It  would  be  folly  to  say 
we  were  not  frightened.  If  any  man's  hair  ever 
stood  on  end  from  fright,  I  should  think  ours 
were  perfectly  erect  at  that  time.  Stopping  the 
team  to  prepare  for  the  worst  that  might  come 
upon  us,  we  noticed  the  Indians  halted  also.  On 
taking  a  more  careful  survey  of  the  situation,  we 
discovered  that  the  supposed  Indians  were  only 
a  cluster  of  tall  weeds  in  the  distance. 

Weeds  are  just  as  frightful  as  anything  else 
when  you  really  think  they  are  savages  swoop- 


94  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

ing  clown  upon  you  for  your  scalp.  When  a 
person  is  on  the  lookout  for  an  enemy,  he  is  al- 
most sure'  to  find  something  frightful.  The 
third  day  after  leaving  the  fort,  we  reached  home 
in  safety,  where  we  rested  unmolested,  while 
others  out  West  continued  to  suffer  captivity 
and  death  from  the  hands  of  the  Red  Men. 


CHAPTER  V 

Thrilling  Incidents  of  the  Indian  Massacre— A  Man 
Killed  not  far  from  Fort  Kearney— Martin  and 
His  Boys  Wounded— Father  Eubanks  and  Boy 
Killed — Bill  and  Miss  Eubanks  Killed — Mrs. 
Eubanks  and  Miss  Roper  Taken  Prisoners— Theo- 
dore Eulic,  Joe  and  Fred  Eubanks  Killed— Ken- 
nedy, Butler,  and  Kelley  Murdered,  and  Other 
Depredations. 

I  shall  now  turn  the  attention  of  the  reader 
to  the  Indian  depredations  along  the  stage-line 
from  near  where  the  town  of  Alexandria  now 
stands,  in  Thayer  County,  as  far  west  as  old 
Fort  Kearney,  a  distance  of  nearly  one  hundred 
miles. 

The  Indians  first  made  their  presence  known 
about  the  fort  by  stealing  horses  and  killing  such 
men  as  they  caught  away  from  the  fort  alone, 
at  the  same  time  keeping  at  a  safe  distance  from 
the  soldiers.  One  day  some  men  from  a  ranch 
not  far  from  the  fort  went  out  reconnoitering, 
to  locate  the  Indians,  and  see  what  they  were 
doing.     They  had   gone   but   a   short   distance 

95 


96  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

into  the  sandhills  when  they  were  surprised  by 
a  body  of  Indians,  and  fled  for  their  lives. 
Most  of  them,  having  good  horses,  kept  a  safe 
distance  from  the  savages;  but  one  unfortunate 
man  fell  far  behind.  He  saw  the  Indians  were 
shortening  the  distance  between  him  and  them, 
and  urged  his  horse  to  its  utmost  speed;  but 
they  overtook  and  shot  him.  On  first  being 
shot  he  did  not  fall  from  his  horse,  but  called 
out  to  the  men:  "Boys,  I'm  shot!  For  God's 
sake,  do  n't  leave  me !"  There  being  so  many 
Indians  who  were  trying  to  cut  off  the  retreat 
of  the  men,  to  stop  for  a  moment  to  assist  their 
comrade  was  certain  death  to  all.  So  they  sped 
on,  and  left  the  unfortunate  man  to  his  fate. 
The  savages  surrounded  the  poor  fellow,  and 
shot  arrows  into  him  until  he  fell  from  his  horse, 
when  they  had  their  own  good  time  in  torturing 
him  to  death.  The  last  his  comrades  saw  of 
him,  he  was  down  on  his  elbows  and  knees,  and 
the  Indians  around,  shooting  arrows  into  him. 
I  have  often  thought  how  hard  it  must  have  been 
for  those  men  to  leave  their  helpless  comrade 
in  the  hands  of  such  merciless  savages.  The 
next  day,  when  a  company  of  men  went  out  after 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  97 

the  body  of  the  murdered  man,  they  said  it 
looked  as  if  he  had  been  beaten  to  death  with 
stones.  It  seems  strange  that  human  beings 
can  become  so  depraved  and  beastlike  as  these 
savages  are.  But  such  is  the  nature  of  uncivil- 
ized man.  Hence  we  see  the  importance  of 
carrying  the  blessed  gospel  to  all  men  every- 
where. 

Another  thrilling  incident  took  place  not  far 
from  Fort  Kearney.  This  story  I  take  from 
the  man's  own  mouth  of  whom  I  now  write. 
This  man,  Mr.  Martin  by  name,  and  his  two 
little  boys  were  in  the  meadow  loading  hay, 
when  they  were  surprised  by  the  Indians  com- 
ing down  upon  them  like  birds  of  prey.  The 
father  saw  them  in  time  to  put  the  two  boys  on 
a  horse  he  was  leading  behind  the  wagon,  and 
told  them  to  run  to  the  house  for  their  lives. 
He  at  the  same  time  climbed  upon  the  load  of 
hay,  and  put  whip  to  his  horses,  making  them 
run  for  dear  life.  He  was  soon  overtaken,  how- 
ever. The  Indians  drew  up  on  each  side  of  the 
wagon,  and  shot  arrows  at  him.  Sinking  low 
down  into  the  hay,  he  was  pretty  well  protected 
from  them.  But  one  arrow  penetrated  the  hay, 
7 


98  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

and  struck  him  square  on  the  collar  bone,  inflict- 
ing a  slight  wound.  On  seeing  he  could  not 
save  himself  by  running,  he  turned  his  rifle  down 
upon  them,  and  fired  as  he  ran,  when  they  left 
him  and  went  in  pursuit  of  the  boys.  The  lit- 
tle fellows  were  so  frightened  that  they  left  the 
road  and  took  a  more  circuitous  route  for  the 
house,  but  were  soon  overtaken  by  the  Indians, 
who  came  up  behind,  and  shot  an  arrow  into 
them,  pinning  them  together  as  they  sat  on  the 
horse.  In  this  condition  the  little  fellows  fell 
to  the  ground,  thinking  they  were  killed.  The 
Indians  seemed  to  think  so,  too,  and  passed  on, 
leaving  them  without  further  molestation. 

The  father  saw  them  fall  from  the  horse,  and 
he,  too,  thought  they  were  killed;  so  he  passed 
on  to  the  house,  got  the  rest  of  his  family  upon 
the  load  of  hay,  and  started  for  the  neighbors', 
leaving  the  little  boys,  as  he  supposed,  dead 
on  the  ground  where  they  had  fallen.  He  had 
not  gone  more  than  a  hundred  yards  from 
the  house  when  one  of  his  horses  fell  dead  in 
the  road.  On  examining  the  horse,  he  discov- 
ered that  an  arrow  had  been  shot  into  him, 
penetrating  his  vitals. 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  99 

The  other  horse  being  unharnessed,  part  of 
the  family  were  placed  on  him,  the  rest  going  on 
foot.  In  this  way  they  traveled  until  safely 
housed  with  some  of  their  neighbors,  where  Mr, 
Martin  told  his  sad  story  and  spent  much  of  the 
night  in  weeping  because  of  his  murdered  boys. 
All  the  neighbors  who  could  do  so  got  together 
to  protect  themselves  and  their  property  from 
the  bloody  hands  of  the  savages.  Bright  and 
early  the  next  morning,  a  goodly  number  of 
well-armed  men  went  to  Mr.  Martin's  house  in 
search  of  the  bodies  of  the  boys.  On  reaching 
the  spot  where  they  were  seen  to  fall  from  the 
horse,  they  saw  nothing  of  them.  Then  they 
ventured  into  the  house,  and  observed  traces 
of  blood  in  different  places  on  the  floor.  They 
now  thought  the  boys  had  either  been  carried 
into  the  house  by  the  Indians,  and  concealed 
somewhere,  or  that  they  were  not  dead,  and 
had  themselves  entered,  and  were  somewhere 
near.  On  searching  the  barn  carefully,  there, 
to  the  astonishment  of  all  and  the  great  joy  of 
the  father,  they  found  them  yet  alive. 

When  the  boys  fell  from  the  horse,  the  In- 
dians came  so  close  to  them  that  they  could 


IOO  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

hear  them  talking;  but  supposing  them  to  be 
dead,  the  Indians  passed  on,  leaving  them  in 
the  grass.  The  boys,  being  greatly  frightened, 
and  at  the  same  time  thinking  themselves  nearly 
dead,  lay  perfectly  still  until  the  Indians  were 
gone.  When  all  was  so  quiet  about  them  that 
they  dared  move,  they  found  that  they  were  not 
so  near  dead  as  they  had  supposed.  They  then 
arose,  and  drew  the  arrow  from  their  sides,  which 
had  only  passed  through  the  clothes  and  entered 
the  flesh  on  the  sides  of  their  bodies.  After  dis- 
covering that  they  were  not  killed,  they  went 
to  the  house,  and  found  the  family  had  gone. 
There  they  were,  all  alone,  not  knowing  whether 
their  folks  were  dead  or  alive.  It  is  likely  they 
had  heard  their  parents  say  that  tobacco  was 
good  for  a  fresh  wound;  for  they  had  searched 
the  house,  and,  finding  some  of  their  father's 
plug  tobacco,  had  applied  it  to  their  wounds. 
Being  afraid  to  remain  in  the  house,  they  went 
to  the  sod  barn,  where  they  remained  until  dis- 
covered by  the  men  the  next  morning.  They 
heard  the  men  when  they  first  came  in  search  of 
them,  but  were  so  frightened  that  they  dared 
not  let  their  whereabouts  be  known.     If  I  re- 


A   FRONTIER    LIFE  IOI 

member  correctly,  the  boys  were  only  seven 
and  eight  years  old,  and  yet  they  showed  a 
great  deal  of  carefulness  as  well  as  forethought. 
As  formerly  stated,  this  story  was  told  to  me 
by  Mr.  Martin  himself,  and  I  saw  the  scar  on 
his  collar-bone  where  he  had  been  wounded;  and 
I  saw  the  horse  that  fell  dead  in  the  road  and 
the  boys  that  were  shot  upon  their  horse;  and 
I  feel  sure  my  story  is  true. 

Mr.  Martin  was  of  German  descent,  and 
would  become  wonderfully  excited  when  relat- 
ing his  hair-breadth  escape.  The  last  time  I  saw 
him  he  had  purchased  a  large  Henry  rifle,  and 
said  he  should  get  one  for  each  of  his  boys,  and 
that  they  would  shoot  every  Indian  they  could 
get  their  eyes  on. 

About  this  time  a  little  boy  was  stolen  by 
the  Indians  from  a  family  living  near  Fort  Kear- 
ney. He  was  taken  out  on  the  plains  not  far 
from  Cheyenne  City,  and  sold  to  the  Govern- 
ment soldiers  for  a  thousand  dollars.  There 
is  no  doubt  in  my  mind  that  this  kidnaping  was 
merely  a  matter  of  speculation  on  the  part  of 
the  Indians.  How  the  parents  of  this  boy  must 
have  felt,  believing  their  child  among  the  In- 


102  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

dians,  somewhere  a  captive,  or  imagining  that 
his  little  bones  were  bleaching  on  the  prairie! 
How  cruel  to  tear  a  child  from  its  mother's 
bosom  in  such  a  way! 

I  will  now  continue  my  unfinished  sketch 
of  the  horrible  Indian  massacre  on  the  Little 
Blue  River  route.  The  general  attack  on  the 
line  of  the  massacre  was  made  on  Sunday,  the 
seventh  day  of  August,  about  four  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon.  As  near  as  we  could  tell,  the 
attack  was  made  along  the  entire  line  at  the 
same  time  and  at  the  very  moment  the  three 
Indians  killed  Mr.  Burk  at  Pawnee  Ranch.  I 
have  always  thought  that  the  attack  on  Sunday 
was  providential;  for  if  it  had  been  on  any  other 
day,  undoubtedly  my  brother  and  I  would  have 
been  killed,  notwithstanding  our  well-arranged 
plans  for  escape.  As  previously  stated,  we  were 
at  daily  work  near  the  river,  where  the  Indians 
could  come  under  cover  of  the  brush  and  shoot 
us  before  we  knew  of  their  presence.  If  we  had 
been,  like  many  of  the  neighboring  farmers,  at 
work  on  Sunday,  in  all  probability  we  would 
have  been  killed,  as  many  of  them  were.  As  far 
as  I  have  learned,  nearly  all  who  were  out  hunt- 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  103 

ing  or  making  hay  on  that  day  were  murdered 
before  they  could  reach  home.  This  is  one  page 
in  my  experience  where  I  feel  sure  that  my  re- 
ligion saved  my  life;  not  only  saved  my  life,  but 
saved  me  from  a  most  horrible  death  and  an 
eternal  hell. 

Soon  after  learning  how  wickedly  the  people 
along  the  Little  Blue  were  living,  I  said,  "I  am 
surprised  that  the  Lord  allows  them  to  live  here 
and  prosper  as  they  do."  Here,  as  everywhere 
else,  some  good,  honorable  men  were  found,  but 
none  of  them  were  religious,  or  seemed  to  care 
for  religion  at  all.  But  a  short  time  after  ex- 
pressing my  surprise  about  their  prospering 
under  such  circumstances,  they  were  all  either 
killed  or  driven  from  their  homes,  and  most  of 
their  property  destroyed. 

On  Sunday,  the  day  of  the  general  raid, 
Father  Comstock,  who  called  at  Pawnee  Ranch 
for  dinner,  as  previously  stated,  continued  his 
journey  homeward  to  Oak  Grove.  He  had 
scarcely  disappeared  in  the  distance  when  three 
Indians  were  seen  riding  with  all  possible  speed 
toward  Mr.  Burk,  whom  they  killed.  Mr.  Com- 
stock had  gone  but  a  few  miles  down  the  river 


104  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

to  a  place  called  the  Narrows,  near  the  mouth 
of  Elk  Creek,  when  he  was  suddenly  surprised 
at  finding  by  the  roadside,  dead  and  scalped,  a 
well-known  girl  by  the  name  of  Eubanks,  and 
Bill  Eubanks,  her  brother,  lying  dead  on  a  sand- 
bar in  the  river.  Here  leaving  the  road,  Father 
Comstock  passed  on  to  the  high  prairie,  and  in 
this  way  reached  home  without  molestation.  On 
coming  near  his  own  house,  he  rode  out  upon 
a  hill  northwest  of  the  place,  where  he  could  look 
down,  and  see  if  all  was  right.  One  of  the  hired 
men  at  the  ranch  saw  him  coming,  and,  suppos- 
ing him  to  be  an  Indian,  drew  his  large  Henry 
rifle  to  shoot  him,  but  for  some  cause  did  not 
fire;  so  the  old  gentleman  was  saved  from  losing 
his  life  by  the  hand  of  a  friend. 

On  the  same  evening,  Father  Eubanks  and 
one  of  his  boys,  about  twelve  years  old,  were 
riding  down  the  river  in  an  ox-cart  to  visit  Joe 
Eubanks,  when  the  Indians  came  upon  and  killed 
them,  mutilating  their  bodies  in  a  most  fearful 
manner,  and  scalping  the  boy  from  ear  to  ear. 
As  the  old  gentleman  was  bald,  his  head  was  not 
disturbed.  Leaving  their  bodies  in  the  road, 
they  shot  the  oxen  full  of  arrows,  which  those 


A.    FRONTIER    LIFE  1 05 

suffering  animals  carried  nearly  a  week  before 
they  were  found  and  relieved. 

On  that  fatal  and  eventful  evening,  Miss 
Laura  Roper,  Bill  Eubanks's  wife,  and  a  Miss 
Eubanks,  were  out  hunting  wild  grapes,  when 
the  Indians  made  a  raid  on  their  house.  The 
women  were  just  a  short  distance  from  home, 
and  Bill  Eubanks  and  a  little  boy  were  at  the 
house  alone.  Hearing  a  noise  at  the  house,  the 
girls  looked  in  that  direction,  and  saw  Mr.  Eu- 
banks running  up  the  river  toward  them,  closely 
followed  by  the  Indians.  The  house  was  a  little 
below  the  Narrows,  and  Bill  ran  from  there  to 
the  Narrows  and  attempted  to  cross  the  river, 
when  he  was  overtaken,  shot,  and  left  lying  on 
the  sandbar  in  the  river.  When  he  fell,  he  was 
not  far  from  the  girls,  who  were  hid  in  the  brush. 
What  a  heart-rending  scene  for  Mrs.  Eubanks 
as  she  looked  from  her  hiding-place  and  saw  her 
husband  fall  beneath  the  savage  hand  of  the 
Red  Man! 

The  women  were  well  concealed  even  from 
the  keen  eyes  of  the  savages,  and  but  for  Mrs. 
Eubanks's  little  child,  which  she  had  with  her, 
crying  when  it  saw  the  Indians  coming  towards 


106  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

them,  they,  in  all  probability,  would  have  escaped 
the  murderers  altogether.  The  crying  of  the 
child  having  revealed  their  whereabouts,  they 
were  seized  and  taken  down  to  the  river  where 
the  husband's  body  lay,  and  ordered  to  mount 
ponies  which  the  Indians  had  brought  for  them 
to  ride.  It  is  evident  that  the  capturing  of  these 
women  and  the  subsequent  selling  of  them  to  the 
Government  was  a  prearranged  plan  of  the  In- 
dians for  the  sole  purpose  of  getting  money. 
When  the  girls  were  ordered  to  mount  the 
ponies,  Mrs.  Eubanks  and  Miss  Roper  obeyed, 
but  Miss  Eubanks  refused,  and  was  struck  dead 
with  their  tomahawks,  and  almost  the  entire 
scalp  taken,  leaving  but  little  hair  on  the  back 
part  of  her  head.  The  little  boy  at  the  house 
with  Bill  Eubanks  was  wounded  and  ran  up  a 
draw  about  twenty  rods  east  of  the  spot  where 
the  girl  and  Bill  were  killed.  How  long  he  lay 
there  alone,  suffering  the  agonies  of  death,  no 
one  ever  knew.  One  week  later,  his  little  re- 
mains were  found  lying  in  the  grass  in  a  state  of 
decomposition.  Laura  Roper,  Mrs.  Eubanks, 
and  her  little  boy  were  taken  from  the  side  of 
the  dead  girl,  carried  across  the  river  past  the 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  107 

murdered  man  on  the  sandbar,  and  hurried 
across  the  plains  to  the  mountains.  Laura 
showed  considerable  bravery  during  her  captiv- 
ity, and  bore  up  under  her  afflictions  so  well 
that  the  Indians  said  she  was  "heap  brave 
squaw,"  and  treated  her  kindly.  After  a  cap- 
tivity of  about  three  months  she  was  taken  near 
Denver,  and  sold  to  the  Government  for  a  good 
sum  of  money.  Mrs.  Eubanks  took  her  afflic- 
tions very  hard,  and  was  not  so  well  treated  as 
Laura.  After  she  had  been  in  captivity  a  while 
the  Indians  frequently  whipped  her  little  boy, 
just  to  make  her  cry.  After  four  long  months 
of  prison  life  among  the  Indians,  she  and  her 
little  boy  were  taken  to  Fort  Phil  Kearney,  and 
traded  to  the  whites.  The  Indians  told  the 
whites  that  they  were  of  a  friendly  tribe,  and  had 
bought  the  prisoners  of  the  Cheyennes,  and 
brought  them  to  get  their  money  of  the  white 
man  and  set  them  free;  whereupon  the  Govern- 
ment paid  them  a  large  sum,  and  let  them  go. 
It  was  reported  that  the  Indians  who  brought 
Mrs.  Eubanks  in  and  sold  her,  were  the  same  that 
had  captured  her,  and  they  boasted  among  other 
Indians  that  they  not  only  intended  to  sell  her 


108  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

to  the  Government,  but  to  capture  others,  and 
trade  them  for  the  flour  and  ponies  of  the  white 
man.  They  even  tried  to  recapture  Mrs.  Eu- 
banks  before  getting  out  of  the  Indian  country, 
and  came  so  near  as  to  fire  into  the  coach  in 
which  she  was  riding  homeward. 

Among  the  many  outrageous  acts  committed 
along  the  road  at  this  perilous  time,  was  that  of 
completely  wrecking  a  train  of  about  forty 
wagons  at  Little  Blue  Station,  where  the  men 
had  camped  for  dinner.  The  cattle  were  turned 
out  upon  the  grass  to  graze;  but  the  few  mules 
in  the  train  were  kept  close  to  the  camp.  While 
the  men  were  preparing  their  meal,  the  Indians 
came  down  upon  them,  and  drove  off  all  their 
oxen.  A  few  wagons  were  then  unloaded  by  the 
owners'  throwing  out  flour,  whisky,  and  brandy 
barrels  to  the  ground.  To  these  wagons  mule- 
teams  were  hitched,  and  the  men  fled  for  their 
lives.  After  they  had  evacuated  the  camp,  leav- 
ing behind  their  entire  stock  of  goods,  the  In- 
dians returned  and  burned  the  wagons,  cut  holes 
into  the  barrels  and  kegs  that  contained  any  kind 
of  liquid,  and  let  the  contents  pour  upon  the 
ground.     Though  there  were  some  barrels  of 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  109 

whisky,  a  little  flour,  and  some  silverware,  they 
left  them  unmolested.  Thousands  of  dollars 
were  destroyed  in  a  few  moments  of  time. 

Below  we  give  a  pen-picture  of  the  murder- 
ous deeds  perpetrated  near  Kiowa  Ranch.  A 
boy  by  the  name  of  Theodore  Eulic  came  from  a 
farm  some  two  miles  above  Kiowa,  with  butter 
to  sell.  On  returning  home  in  the  afternoon  the 
Indians  from  the  hills  dropped  down  upon  him, 
shot  him  from  his  horse,  and  took  his  scalp.  A 
bullet  had  passed  through  his  body,  and  arrows 
were  still  fast  in  him  when  found.  About  the 
same  time  that  this  boy  started  for  home,  Joe 
and  Fred  Eubanks  and  John  Palmer  crossed  the 
river  near  Kiowa  for  the  purpose  of  raking  up 
newly-mown  hay  and  looking  for  a  good  place 
to  mow  the  next  day.  Fred  mounted  the  rake, 
and  went  to  work  raking  hay;  Joe  mounted  his 
pony,  and  went  down  the  river  in  search  of  grass; 
while  Palmer  returned  to  the  house  for  water. 
Joe  went  on  down  the  river  below  the  ranch, 
where  the  Indians  shot  him,  took  his  pony,  and 
fled.  Some  of  the  men  about  the  ranch  saw  them 
going  off  with  Joe's  pony,  but  were  not  prepared 
to  follow  them.     Mr.  Eubanks's  wife  was  at  the 


HO  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

ranch,  almost  within  calling  distance  of  him,  but 
no  one  but  the  Father  above  knew  where  he  was. 
Those  who  afterwards  found  his  body  thought 
he  must  have  lived  a  considerable  length  of  time 
after  being  wounded.  While  raking  hay,  the 
Indians  came  upon  Fred,  killed  him,  took  his 
horse,  and  fled  into  the  hills.  When  Mr.  Palmer 
returned  with  a  jug  of  water,  he  found  him  lying 
beside  his  rake,  dead  and  scalped.  A  man  named 
Kennedy,  who  lived  on  the  river  above  Kiowa, 
in  Nuckolls  County,  a  short  distance  from  the 
county-line,  was  also  killed.  He  and  a  boy  about 
fourteen  years  of  age  were  living  in  a  cabin  where 
the  hills  and  the  river  come  nearly  together.  Mr. 
Kennedy  was  killed  in  the  house,  but  by  some 
means  the  boy  succeeded  in  making  his  escape, 
and  afterwards  proved  himself  quite  a  hero, 
which  shall  be  noticed  further  on. 

We  will  now  picture  the  horrible  scene  en- 
acted at  Oak  Grove,  where  the  Comstock  boys 
so  nobly  and  bravely  defended  themselves  and 
loved  ones  from  the  torturing  hands  of  a  cruel 
and  bloody  foe.  As  stated  before,  Father  Com- 
stock was  not  present  when  the  raid  was  made 
upon  his  home,  but  some  of  his  boys,  then  young 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  III 

men,  were.  Two  men,  named  Butler  and  Kelley. 
were  at  the  ranch  at  this  time;  but  why,  I  do  not 
know.  When  the  Indians  came  to  the  house, 
Butler  and  Kelley  went  to  the  door  to  talk  with 
them.  They  seemed  quite  friendly,  and  said  they 
were  Pawnees,  and  were  hunting  horses;  but  the 
men  knew  they  were  Cheyennes,  and  told  them 
so.  When  too  late  to  save  themselves,  the  un- 
fortunate men  saw  that  the  Indians  intended  mis- 
chief, and  turned  to  go  into  the  house,  but  were 
both  shot  in  the  back  with  arrows.  An  arrow 
lodged  in  Mr.  Kelley's  body,  with  one  end  pro- 
truding from  his  back  and  the  other  from  his 
breast.  An  arrow  passed  through  Mr.  Butler's 
body,  and  fell  on  the  ground  in  front  of  him. 
When  the  two  men  were  shot  the  family  started 
upstairs  as  Butler  fell  dead  at  the  foot  of  them. 
Mr.  Kelley  made  his  way  upstairs  with  the  fam- 
ily, handed  his  revolver  to  Harry  Comstock, 
and  said,  "Here,  Harry,  take  this  and  fight  to 
the  last;"  then  pulled  the  arrow  from  his  body 
with  his  own  hands,  and  died  in  a  few  minutes. 
The  boys  punched  holes  through  the  house  and 
fired  upon  the  Indians  until  they  were  glad  to 
fly  for  their  lives. 


112  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

In  the  meantime  a  boy  by  the  name  of  George 
Hunt,  and  a  man  whose  name  I  did  not  learn, 
were  herding  horses  on  the  banks  of  the  river 
for  Mr.  Comstock.  The  Indians  came  to  them, 
and  appeared  very  friendly  until  they  heard  the 
report  of  a  distant  gun,  which  seemed  to  be  a 
signal  for  them  to  commence  their  cruel  and 
bloody  work.  One  of  them  struck  the  man  with 
a  knife,  and  another  snatched  his  gun  from  him — 
a  large  Henry  rifle — and  shot  him  with  five  or 
six  arrows;  they  wounded  George  in  the  leg  with 
a  revolver,  and  left  both  for  dead.  While  the 
Indians  were  catching  the  loose  horses  their  vic- 
tims arose,  went  to  the  river,  and  escaped  under 
cover  of  the  bank.  The  man  finally  died  from 
his  wounds,  but  the  boy  recovered,  having  only 
a  flesh  wound.  The  day  after  the  raid,  Mr.  Com- 
stock took  his  family  and  a  few  household  effects, 
and  left  his  home,  thinking  the  Indians  might 
return  and  murder  them  all.  In  a  day  or  two 
after  leaving,  the  Indians  did  return,  and  burned 
the  house  with  all  its  contents.  The  bodies  of 
Kelley  and  Butler  having  been  left  in  the  house, 
they  too  were  consumed  by  the  flames.  Next 
day  after  the  raid,  Bob  Emery,  a  coach-driver, 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  113 

came  to  Kiowa  Station  on  his  way  to  Fort 
Kearney.  When  he  was  told  of  the  cruel  mur- 
ders along  the  line,  and  that  he  had  better  not 
venture  any  farther,  he  said  he  was  used  to  the 
Indians;  he  had  driven  among  them  before  when 
they  were  hostile,  and  should  n't  back  down  for 
them  now.  When  the  men  saw  that  he  was  de- 
termined to  go,  as  many  of  them  as  the  coach 
would  hold  climbed  into  it  and  on  top  of  it,  and 
went  with  him.  Bob  had  four  good  horses,  and 
drove  bravely  forward  until  reaching  the  place 
where  Kennedy  was  killed.  As  he  was  in  the 
act  of  driving  down  the  hill  into  the  valley  where 
he  could  not  have  turned,  he  saw  the  heads  of 
about  forty  Indians  in  the  brush  below,  lying  in 
ambush.  He  wheeled  his  horses  in  the  nick  of 
time  at  a  place  where  he  had  just  sufficient  room 
to  move  around,  and  get  back  into  the  road. 
While  he  was  turning  the  Indians  sprang  from 
their  hiding-place  in  hot  pursuit.  It  was  now 
a  race  for  life.  Bob  was  a  cool-headed,  steady- 
nerved  fellow,  and  an  excellent  driver;  so  he 
whipped  his  horses  into  a  keen  run,  with  forty 
Indians  after  him,  firing  at  the  coach.  The  men 
on  top  of  the  coach  kept  them  at  a  distance  by 


114  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

holding  their  guns  in  position  ready  to  shoot. 
The  Indians  seemed  very  careful  about  rushing 
into  danger,  and  dared  not  come  close  enough 
to  do  much  harm.  Among  those  on  top  of  the 
coach  helping  to  keep  the  Indians  at  bay  was  the 
fourteen-year-old  boy  who  was  with  Kennedy 
when  killed. 

The  race  started  in  Nuckolls  County.  After 
running  about  half  a  mile,  the  coach  crossed  the 
county  line  into  Thayer  County,  the  Indians  after 
it,  yelling  and  shooting  at  every  jump.  In  the 
race  one  horse  stumbled  and  nearly  fell,  which 
caused  some  alarm,  for  at  first  it  was  thought  a 
ball  had  struck  him.  While  the  Indians  were 
firing  at  the  coach  and  the  lead  was  flying  around 
like  hail,  Bob  put  the  "bud"  to  his  horses,  at  the 
same  time  holding  a  steady  rein  to  keep  them 
in  the  road.  The  chase  continued  probably  for 
about  two  miles  and  a  half,  with  some  of  the 
Indians  on  each  side  of  the  coach,  and  others 
behind,  firing  and  yelling  as  they  ran.  When  the 
Indians  saw  they  were  defeated  and  gave  up  the 
chase,  they  turned  aside  and  shot  a  number  of 
cattle  that  were  near  by. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  115 

The  soldiers  at  Fort  Kearney,  hearing  of  our 
trouble  on  the  Little  Blue,  came  to  our  relief. 
Captain  Murphy  was  sent  out  with  a  company, 
and  instructed  to  go  to  Pawnee  Ranch  and  re- 
lieve us.  While  fleeing  from  Pawnee  Ranch  after 
the  battle  there,  we  met  Murphy  and  his  men. 
When  first  seen  at  a  distance,  we  supposed  they 
were  the  savages  coming  to  give  us  another 
battle,  so  we  corralled  our  wagons  and  teams, 
and  got  ready  for  the  onslaught.  But  to  our  joy 
we  soon  discovered  they  were  soldiers  coming 
to  our  relief.  Captain  Murphy  fell  in  with  some 
citizens  from  Beatrice,  among  them  my  brother 
Edward,  who  came  up  on  the  Blue  to  look  after 
the  dead  as  well  as  the  living.  After  caring  for 
the  dead  along  the  line  of  the  massacre,  they  went 
in  pursuit  of  the  invaders  and  murderers.  About 
eight  miles  west  of  Little  Blue  Station,  two  of 
the  scouts  were  surprised  by  the  Indians,  and 
their  retreat  cut  off.  One  of  them  was  an  Omaha 
Indian,  and  belonged  to  Captain  Murphy's  com- 
pany. The  last  seen  of  him,  he  was  surrounded 
by  the  wild  Indians  and  bravely  fighting  for  his 
life.    The  other  scout,  named  Cline,  was  one  of 


Il6  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

my  neighbors  from  Beatrice.  He  was  riding  a 
very  fast  horse,  and,  on  discovering  that  he  was 
surrounded,  put  whip  to  his  animal,  and  got  back 
to  the  command,  but,  in  his  run  for  life,  lost  his 
cap  and  gun.  This  Indian  escapade  brought  on 
what  was  afterwards  called  the  battle  of  Elk 
Creek.  There  seemed  to  be  more  than  a  thou- 
sand Indians  attacking  Murphy's  squad  of  little 
more  than  a  hundred  men.  Captain  Murphy 
had  with  him  a  small  cannon,  which  he  fired 
upon  the  Indians,  scattering  them  hither  and 
thither.  At  the  first  shot  the  cannon  was  dis- 
abled, and  the  captain  began  a  retreat.  The 
firing  was  kept  up  on  both  sides  for  three  or  four 
miles.  During  the  fight  old  Mr.  Blair,  a  citizen 
from  the  mouth  of  Sandy  Creek,  dismounted 
from  his  horse,  and  fired  at  an  Indian  not  very 
far  away.  At  the  report  of  the  gun  the  Indian, 
as  he  thought,  fell  from  his  horse,  which  ran 
away.  As  the  grass  was  very  short,  Mr.  Blair 
expected  to  find  his  dead  Indian  on  the  ground, 
but  could  see  nothing  of  him.  He  then  turned 
his  eyes  to  the  flying  pony,  and  saw  the  red-skin 
straighten  himself  up  on  the  pony's  back.  When 
an  Indian  sees  that  he  is  being  shot  at,  he  will 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  117 

drop  down  on  the  opposite  side  of  his  pony  and 
ride  in  this  way  until  out  of  danger.  Some- 
times he  is  lashed  to  the  pony,  so  that,  if  he 
should  be  killed,  his  dead  body  will  be  carried 
from  the  field. 

While  the  soldiers  were  retreating,  the  In- 
dians kept  running  around  and  up  the  draws, 
and  firing  at  the  boys  as  they  were  crossing  the 
ravine.  In  crossing  a  draw,  the  horse  of  Joe 
Roper — the  father  of  the  captured  girl,  Laura 
Roper — was  slightly  wounded,  and  the  man  said 
some  of  the  flying  lead  struck  his  boot-heel.  A 
wagon-boss  whose  outfit  was  captured  by  the  In- 
dians, determined  to  kill  one;  so  he  gave  chase 
to  an  Indian  who  was  close  by,  and  followed  him 
across  a  ravine.  As  the  pursuer  was  crossing  the 
ravine,  another  Indian,  lying  in  ambush,  shot 
him  in  the  back  with  an  arrow,  and  he  fell  from 
his  horse  and  died  instantly.  The  boys  obtained 
his  body,  took  it  down  to  Little  Blue  Station, 
and  buried  it  there.  The  fight  ended  shortly 
after  this  incident.  The  rest  of  the  company 
retreated  in  safety,  the  wagon-boss  and  Murphy's 
scout  being  the  only  loss  during  the  fight.  I 
never  knew  what  became  of  the  scout.     It  was 


Ii8  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

reported,  however,  that,  surrounded  by  Indians 
as  he  was,  he  succeeded  in  escaping. 

Only  those  who  have  been  among  the  In- 
dians, and  seen  their  bloody  work,  can  know  how 
cruel  they  are.  The  Sioux  and  Cheyenne  In- 
dians would  kill  and  scalp  the  early  pioneer 
women,  and  braid  their  hair  into  lariat-ropes  and 
bridle-reins.  One  of  these  ropes  was  taken  from 
the  Sioux  Indians  about  forty  years  ago.  The 
early  pioneers  were  so  enraged  at  this  cruel  work 
that,  whenever  encountering  the  savage  fiends, 
they  would  fight  with  such  courage  as  to  surprise 
our  bravest  military  men.  Sometimes  in  the 
hardest  of  the  battle,  when  they  were  greatly 
outnumbered  by  the  foe  and  almost  overpow- 
ered, some  old  pioneer  would  run  along  the  line, 
calling  out,  "Boys,  remember  the  hair  lariat! 
remember  the  hair  lariat !"  Maddened  at  the 
thought  of  the  hair  of  their  mothers,  wives,  sis- 
ters, and  daughters  being  braided  into  lariats  and 
bridle-reins,  these  pioneers  would  fight  with  re- 
newed courage  till  it  seemed  as  if  another  aveng- 
ing army  had  sprung  out  of  the  earth;  and  the 
red-skins  were  compelled  to  fly  for  their  lives. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  119 

Women  and  young  girls  were  often  captured 
and  dragged  across  the  plains  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  where  they  were  sometimes  sold  to 
the  whites,  and  sometimes  rescued  by  their 
friends.  Frequently  the  attempt  to  rescue  them 
assured  their  falling  beneath  the  savage  toma- 
hawk or  scalping-knife. 

Now,  my  dear  readers,  if  you  think  that  the 
early  settlers  were  too  hard  on  the  murderers 
of  their  wives  and  daughters,  you  undoubtedly 
would  change  your  mind  if  called  to  pass  through 
a  like  experience.     If  you  could  have  witnessed 
one  of  the  early  battles  in  the  far  West,  you 
would  have  been  struck  with  wonder  at  seeing 
an  old,  gray-haired  man  in  front  of  the  battle, 
struggling  hand  to  hand  with  the  savage  foe,  his 
white  locks  waving  in  the  air  as  he  fought  more 
like  a  lion  than  an  old  man.    Perhaps  you  would 
say,  "O,  he  is  too  bloodthirsty!     He  gluts  his 
vengeance  on  these  poor,  ignorant  people."    But 
on  learning  that  his  daughter  is  a  captive,  and 
that  he  is  fighting  to  save  his  child,  believing  that 
if  she  is  not  rescued  in  this  struggle,  before  an- 
other day  she  may  be  tied  to  a  burning  stake, 


120  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

and  cruelly  tortured  to  death  in  the  flames,  then 
you  will  say,  "If  my  daughter  were  a  captive,  I 
would  fight  as  he  does."  I  have  fought  by  the 
side  of  a  father  whose  daughter  was  then  a  cap- 
tive among  the  Indians,  and,  witnessing  his  des- 
perate courage,  could  imagine  something  of  his 
feelings  as  he  thought  of  his  dear  child. 


CHAPTER   VI 

Our  Trip  up  the  Little  Blue  River  after  the  Raid — Some 
Remarks  on  the  Way  the  Government  controls  the 
Indians. 

After  the  Indian  troubles  were  passed,  and 
we  thought  there  was  no  more  danger,  my 
brother  Edward  and  I  went  up  the  Blue  River 
as  far  as  Spring  Ranch  to  bring  home  the  mower 
we  had  left  there  when  we  fled  from  the  Indians. 
After  passing  through  the  little  town  of  Merid- 
ian, near  where  the  Big  Sandy  empties  into  the 
Little  Blue  River,  in  Thayer  County,  we  found 
the  country  vacated  as  far  west  as  Fort  Kearney. 
Nearly  all  the  ranches  along  the  road  had  been 
burned  to  ashes,  and  the  property  totally  de- 
stroyed. At  some  of  the  ranches  we  could  see 
where  the  Indians  had  gone  into  the  houses, 
killed  the  inmates,  smashed  the  dishes  to  pieces, 
ripped  open  the  bed-ticks,  and  scattered  the 
feathers  in  every  direction.  We  saw  the  ruins 
of  the  large  freight-train  that  was  wrecked  at 


122  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

Little  Blue  Station.  Here  we  found  whisky, 
molasses,  and  kerosene  barrels,  mostly  empty, 
their  contents  having  been  poured  upon  the 
ground.  There  were  tons  of  crockery-ware  of 
the  best  quality,  all  broken  to  pieces  in  one  large 
pile.  A  quantity  of  flour  and  a  little  silverware 
were  left  undisturbed.  Part  of  the  silverware  we 
carried  home,  and  I  suppose  it  is  yet  in  possession 
of  some  of  the  family.  The  whole  country  was 
indeed  a  desolate  region.  Where  a  few  weeks 
before  might  be  seen  life,  activity,  and  progress, 
now  death  supremely  reigned.  Only  a  few  days 
in  the  past  at  most  of  these  ranches  on  the  Blue, 
the  husband,  wife,  and  children  were  living  hap- 
pily together;  and  now  some  of  them  were  dead, 
while  others  were  prisoners,  dragged  across  the 
plains  by  the  murderers  of  their  loved  ones. 

Passing  up  the  river  as  far  as  Spring  Ranch, 
we  found  the  mower  in  the  hay-field  where  we 
had  left  it.  Hitching  it  to  our  wagon,  we  re- 
turned to  Pawnee  Ranch,  and  camped  for  the 
night.  Seeing  what  appeared  to  be  fresh  Indian 
signs,  we  were  somewhat  startled,  and  thought 
we  had  again  got  into  close  quarters,  and  in  all 
probability  would  have  to  fight  our  way  out.    If 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  123 

the  Indians  were  still  in  the  country  we  felt  sure 
that  we  were  very  unsafely  surrounded. 

Taking  our  horses  two  or  three  hundred 
yards  from  the  house,  we  attached  them  to  the 
lariat-ropes,  and  lay  down  by  them,  thinking 
that,  if  Indians  should  come  during  the  night, 
the  horses  would  scent  them,  and  give  us  warn- 
ing in  time  for  self-defense.  We  had  been  there 
but  a  short  time,  when,  sure  enough,  the  horses 
gave  the  expected  signal,  by  throwing  up  their 
heads  and  snorting,  that  danger  was  nigh. 
Turning  our  eyes  in  the  direction  the  horses  were 
looking,  we  saw  the  enemy,  which  appeared  to 
be  an  Indian  on  horseback.  Making  sure  our 
guns  were  ready  for  service,  we  lay  down  with 
our  faces  to  the  ground,  and,  with  presented 
guns,  awaited  the  approach  of  the  foe.  Our  plan 
was  that  when  the  horseman  should  come  within 
a  few  rods  of  us,  we  would  call  him  to  halt,  and 
if  he  did  not  obey  at  once,  we  would  fire  upon 
him.  The  enemy  came  slowly  forward,  thus 
giving  us  a  good  chance  to  be  well  prepared  for 
mortal  combat.  He  drew  closer  and  closer,  until 
we  thought  it  about  time  to  call  him  to  halt, 
when,  to  our  astonishment  as  well  as  joy,  we  dis- 


124  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

covered  that  our  enemy  was  an  old,  poor,  lame 
mule,  which  had  been  left  there  alone  to  die. 
Notwithstanding  the  harmlessness  of  this  poor 
mule,  we  were  just  as  badly  frightened  as  if  the 
Indians  were  upon  us.  We  soon  arrived  home 
in  safety,  leaving  the  Little  Blue  Country  to  the 
Indians,  so  far  as  we  were  concerned. 

Much  has  been  said  and  written  about  the 
abuse  and  the  civilizing  of  the  Red  Man.  Many 
claim  that  the  Indians  have  been  unmercifully 
treated  by  the  white  people  of  America,  which 
I  wish  to  show  is  not  altogether  true.  I  am 
frank  to  admit  that  some  Indian  traders,  and 
possibly  some  early  settlers,  have  woefully 
cheated  them,  yet  not  more  than  thousands  of 
our  own  people  have  been  wronged  by  the  same 
class  of  men.  One  great  cry  is,  that  the  poor, 
helpless  Indian  has  been  driven  from  his  home 
and  his  hunting-grounds,  and  shoved  to  the  Far 
West,  where  it  is  almost  impossible  for  him  to 
live  without  stealing.  Has  not  the  Government 
bought  and  paid  for  these  lands?  Surely  it  has 
in  most  cases,  if  not  in  all,  where  the  Indians 
have  been  removed  from  them.  They  have 
nothing,  then,  to  complain  of  from  that  source. 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  125 

If  the  Indians  had  settled  on  and  cultivated  these 
lands,  they  need  not  have  left  them;  for  the 
Government  would  have  neither  driven  them 
away  nor  compelled  them  to  sell,  except  such 
as  they  did  not  occupy.  The  good  Lord  never 
intended  that  this  fertile  soil  should  remain  idle, 
and  produce  nothing.  If  the  Red  Men  would 
neither  cultivate  nor  sell  these  wild  lands,  I  con- 
tend that,  after  offering  them  a  reasonable  com- 
pensation, the  Government  had  a  right  to  take 
and  use  them.  As  they  saw  fit  to  sell  these  lands 
rather  than  to  cultivate  them,  it  was  the  duty  of 
the  Government  to  buy,  and  send  its  citizens 
to  them.  Much  of  my  life  has  been  spent  on 
the  border  settlement  near  the  Indians,  so  I 
know  whereof  I  speak.  As  a  general  rule,  the 
frontier  settlers  have  used  the  Indians  well, 
many  times  giving  them  something  to  eat  when 
they  had  scarcely  enough  for  their  own  children. 
They  have  fed  them  when  hungry,  and  when 
cold  have  taken  them  into  their  houses  and 
warmed  them,  not  unfrequently  compensated  by 
having  their  property  stolen  and  members  of 
their  family  murdered.  Many  of  the  frontier 
settlers   have   done   more   towards   feeding   the 


126  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

hungry  Indians  than  thousands  of  our  wealthy 
people  will  do  toward  feeding  the  poor  white 
beggars  at  their  own  doors.  Frequently  a  squad 
of  big  hungry  Indians  have  come  to  our  house, 
staid  over  night,  were  given  all  they  could  eat, 
and  the  next  morning  were  sent  on  their  way 
rejoicing,  without  costing  them  a  cent;  and  hun- 
dreds of  other  families  did  the  same  thing.  I 
know  of  no  people  in  the  world  who  have  had 
so  much  done  for  them^as  the  American  Indians, 
both  by  the  Government  and  individuals.  For 
proof  of  what  I  say,  consult  the  Indian  Bureau, 
where  you  may  learn  what  the  Government  has 
been  and  is  doing  for  them. 

The  sources  from  which  the  money  for  In- 
dian education  is  obtained  are  Congressional  ap- 
propriations, treaty  interests  and  funds,  and  the 
treasuries  of  religious  bodies  which  maintain 
Indian  missions.  This  money  was  received  and 
distributed  among  the  uncivilized  Indian  in 
1886-7  as  follows:  Receipts  from  the  Govern- 
ment for  general  support,  $912,625;  support  of 
770  students  at  various  institutions,  $126,040; 
buildings,  current  appropriations,  $134,750;  un- 
expended appropriation,  $19,804;  transportation 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  127 

of  pupils,  $28,000;  purchases  of  live  stock, 
$10,000;  treaty  interest  and  other  funds,  $163,- 
700.  Total  from  the  Government,  $1,394,919. 
Expenditures  by  Government:  For  boarding 
and  day  schools  and  pupils,  $1,095,380;  building 
sites  and  repairs,  $76,080;  live  stock,  $8,500; 
transportation  of  pupils,  $2,400.  Total  by  Gov- 
ernment, $1,203,960.  By  the  State  of  New 
York,  $9,122;  by  American  Missionary  Associ- 
ation for  schools  and  Church  work,  $47,921;  by 
the  Society  of  Friends,  $21,729.  Grand  total, 
$1,282,732.  The  total  Government  appropri- 
ations for  the  Indians  in  1789,  from  March  4, 
1788,  to  June  30,  1789,  was,  $2,422,902.30.  In 
recent  years  it  was,  in  1885,  $6,552,425;  in  1886, 
$6,099,158;  in  1889,  $6,249,303. 

Thus  the  reader  may  see  how  the  Govern- 
ment is  providing  for  the  "poor,  neglected  In- 
dians." Before  I  leave  this  subject,  I  wish  to 
say  something  in  regard  to  the  civilizing  of  the 
Red  Man;  for  I  think  thousands  of  dollars  have 
been  needlessly  expended  for  this  purpose.  If 
our  Government  had  pursued  a  proper  course 
toward  the  Indians,  they  would  not  have  com- 
mitted one-half  the  depredations  traced  to  them, 


128  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

nor  needed  one-half  the  money  that  has  been 
expended  for  them,  and  many  more  of  them 
would  have  been  civilized,  and  now  in  a  pros- 
perous condition.  I  do  not  wish  to  set  myself 
up  against  the  Government  officials  in  regard 
to  the  controlling  of  the  Indians,  but  I  feel  sure 
that  the  Government  has  not  adopted  the  wisest 
plan  to  accomplish  what  it  desired  to  do. 

In  the  first  place,  the  most  successful  way  to 
develop  man,  intellectually,  morally,  and  finan- 
cially, is  to  throw  him  on  his  own  resources, 
and  thus  give  him  something  to  do.  You  may 
take  some  of  our  brightest  boys,  and  give  them 
all  they  need  to  eat  and  wear,  and  plenty  of 
money  to  spend  in  idleness.  Let  them  raise 
their  children  in  the  same  way,  and  you  will 
have  a  lot  of  degenerate  profligates  and  vile  men 
and  women,  whom  you  never  can  improve  so 
long  as  they  remain  in  idleness.  Idleness  breeds 
crime  and  ignorance,  and  turns  the  saint  to  the 
savage.  Therefore,  I  contend  that  if,  in  some 
way,  the  Indians  had  been  compelled  to  work 
for  their  bread  or  starve,  they  might  have  been 
civilized  and  Christianized  long  before  this.  But 
they  have  been  kept  in  idleness,  where  it  is  im- 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  129 

possible  to  keep  any  one,  and  at  the  same  time 
develop  the  moral  and  intellectual  faculties. 
Here  the  question  will  naturally  arise,  How  can 
this  be  done?  This,  I  know,  is  a  difficult  ques- 
tion to  answer;  but  I  will  give  some  suggestions. 
If  the  Government  had  bought  the  Indian  lands 
and  paid  for  them  at  once,  or  as  soon  as  it  was 
able,  and  altogether  dispensed  with  the  annuities 
paid  the  Indians,  they  would  have  soon  spent 
their  money,  and,  thrown  upon  their  own  re- 
sources, would  have  been  compelled  to  work 
for  what  they  needed. 

The  expectation  of  the  annual  payment  has 
encouraged  them  in  idleness,  and  made  it  more 
difficult  for  the  missionaries  to  manage  them. 
They  have  come  to  think  that  the  Government 
is  in  duty  bound  to  provide  for  them,  and  so 
there  is  no  inducement  to  work. 

Many  times  they  foolishly  barter  away  their 
annual  supplies,  which  being  thus  exhausted 
long  before  the  time  for  another  installment, 
they  get  cold  and  hungry,  complain  of  the  Gov- 
ernment because  it  does  not  feed  and  clothe 
them  better,  and  wreak  vengeance  upon  the 
frontier  settlers  along  the  border-line. 
9 


130  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

I  realize  that  the  Government  is  trying  to 
teach  them  to  work  for  themselves.  But  there 
is  one  great  difficulty  in  the  way;  it  is  doing  too 
much  of  the  work  itself.  It  is  evident  that  these 
people  can  never  be  taught  to  work  until  com- 
pelled to  do  so  or  starve.  If  some  such  plan 
had  been  adopted  years  ago,  there  would  not 
have  been  the  suffering  among  them  there  has 
been  under  the  present  mode  of  ministering  to 
them;  for  as  soon  as  the  wild  game  on  which 
they  depended  was  gone,  they  would  have  pro- 
vided for  themselves  in  some  other  way. 

The  reader  may  say,  "Have  not  various 
tribes  been  civilized,  Christianized,  and  taught 
to  work  under  the  present  mode  of  administra- 
tion?" So  far  as  I  know,  not  one  tribe  has  ever 
been  civilized  and  taught  to  work  so  long  as  it 
was  numerically  strong  enough  to  maintain  its 
rights  and  cope  with  other  wild  tribes.  Only 
when  they  could  no  longer  defend  themselves 
in  the  wild  state,  could  they  be  induced  to  settle 
down  and  go  to  work.  So  long  as  there  are 
large  tribes  of  Indians  allowed  to  roam  the 
plains,  supported  by  the  Government,  just  so 
long  will  there  be  wild  savages  to  murder  border 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  131 

settlers.  So  far  as  I  can  learn,  there  is  not  as 
much  farming  done  by  the  wild  tribes  nowadays 
as  by  their  ancestors  when  first  found  in  Amer- 
ica. Why  is  this?  Simply  because  they  are 
supported  by  the  Government,  and  "do  n't  have 
to"  work. 

The  reader  may  think  that  I  am  uncharitable 
toward  the  poor  Red  Man  of  the  plains,  but  I 
think  I  have  due  charity  for  him.  I  wish  to  do 
him  all  the  good  I  can,  and  it  is  for  his  benefit 
that  I  write  these  lines.  If  I  properly  under- 
stand the  nature  of  charity,  it  encourages  neither 
ignorance  nor  idleness,  and  it  is  not  charity  to 
help  a  man  that  will  not  help  himself.  I  believe, 
as  the  Scriptures  teach,  that  if  a  man  will  not 
work,  neither  shall  he  eat. 

I  have  another  and  more  severe  criticism  on 
the  means  employed  by  the  Government  to 
make  and  keep  the  Indians  peaceable.  The 
way  the  Government  has  made  treaties  with  them 
has  tended  to  make  them  hostile  and  trouble- 
some. Usually,  when  they  have  broken  out  and 
murdered  the  settlers,  they  have  done  their  evil 
work  and  hurried  out  of  reach  of  justice.  A  few 
days  afterward  the  soldiers  would  be  ordered 


132  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

to  pursue  them,  and  sometimes  succeeded  in 
overtaking  and  punishing  them;  but  generally 
the  Indians  evaded  them,  escaping  to  the  plains 
and  hiding.  The  soldiers,  after  following  them 
a  few  days,  would  give  up  the  chase,  and  return 
home.  Thus  escaping  punishment,  the  Indians 
would  soon  return,  and  steal  and  murder  until 
the  Government  gave  them  a  large  sum  of 
money  on  their  promising  to  cease  hostilities 
and  be  peaceable.  As  long  as  this  money  lasted 
they  were  very  friendly;  but  they  have  learned 
that,  when  in  need,  the  easiest  way  to  supply 
their  wants  is  again  to  become  hostile  to  the 
whites  along  the  border-line,  and  force  the  Gov- 
ernment to  give  them  another  sum  of  money 
to  purchase  peace.  If  I  am  correctly  informed, 
this  mode  of  procedure  has  been  carried  on  for 
many  years.  I  have  made  a  rough  estimate,  and 
find  that  the  Government  has  given  at  least  a 
thousand  dollars  to  the  Indians  for  each  white 
person  murdered  by  them.  In  consulting  the 
Indian  Bureau  of  1886,  I  notice  that  the  treaty 
interest  alone  amounted  to  more  than  $160,000. 
Surely  the  giving  of  such  large  sums  of  money 
for  treaties  of  peace  is  an  incentive  to  the  In- 


\    FRONTIER    TJFK  1 33 

dians  to  repeat  their  cruel  deeds  of  bloodshed. 
I  was  informed  that  the  Government  paid  $1,500 
for  the  return  of  Mrs.  Eubanks  and  Miss  Laura 
Roper,  who  were  made  prisoners  at  the  time  of 
the  slaughtering  of  the  settlers  on  the  Little 
Blue  River.  I  also  learned  that  the  little  boy 
whom  the  Indians  captured  near  Fort  Kearney 
was  taken  West  and  sold  to  the  Government 
for  $1,000.  Besides  the  large  sum  of  money  ex- 
pended for  these  captives,  the  Government  paid 
the  Indians  still  more  to  induce  them  to  behave 
themselves.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  better 
course  for  the  Government,  when  the  Indians 
broke  out  and  murdered  the  white  settlers,  was 
to  continue  warring  with  them  until  they  were 
glad  to  treat  on  almost  any  terms.  The  Govern- 
ment should  have  thoroughly  whipped  them 
until  they  begged  for  peace,  and  taken  from 
their  annuities  at  least  a  thousand  dollars  for 
each  white  person  murdered  or  captured  by 
them.  If  this  plan  had  been  adopted  fifty  years 
ago,  most  of  the  Indians  might  now  be  civilized. 
At  least  there  would  not  have  been  one-half  as 
many  of  our  frontiersmen  killed  by  them.  While 
it  might  seem  cruel  to  fall  upon  and,  if  necessary, 


134  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

kill  a  large  number  to  make  them  know  their 
place  and  keep  it,  yet  in  the  outcome  this  would 
doubtless  have  saved  many  lives  of  both  In- 
dians and  white  men.  One  complete  conquest 
of  a  child  is  worth  more  to  it  than  a  thousand 
punishments   without    conquering. 

I  feel  sure  that  the  massacre  along  the  Little 
Blue  in  1864  was  wholly  for  the  purpose  of  forc- 
ing money  from  the  Government.  Although 
the  savages  ran  off  horses  and  cattle  belonging 
to  the  settlers  along  the  Blue,  I  think  money 
from  the  Government  was  the  moving  cause  of 
that  terrible  slaughter.  I  know  men  who,  by 
Indian  ravages,  lost  all  their  property,  and  have 
never  received  a  cent  for  it  from  any  source; 
they  should  have  been  reimbursed  from  the  In- 
dian annuities.  I  pity  the  Indians,  and  realize 
that  we  ought  to  do  all  in  our  power  to  civilize 
and  Christianize  them,  but  they  should  be  made 
to  keep  their  place,  and  to  pay  for  all  the  prop- 
erty they  have  destroyed  and  the  lives  they  have 
taken.  The  Congress  of  1891  did  finally  pass 
a  bill  allowing  the  settlers  remuneration  for  the 
loss  of  their  property  by  the  Indians,  such  sums 
to  be  taken  from  the  Indian  annuities.     This 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  135 

was  a  step  in  the  right  direction,  but  ought  to 
have  been  made  years  ago.  If  the  Government 
would  now  take  away  their  guns  and  ponies,  and 
give  them  tools  for  farming,  it  would  be  but  a 
short  time  before  they  would  be  farmers  and 
doing  well.  Roaming  the  prairies  and  hunting 
from  year  to  year  is  degenerating,  and  as  long 
as  the  Indians  are  allowed  to  do  this,  and  re- 
ceive support  from  the  Government,  they  will 
be  wild  and  unmanageable.  At  first  the  Indians 
might  think  the  Government  cruel  in  preventing 
it,  but  in  a  short  time  they  would  learn  to  be 
grateful.  It  is  more  cruel  to  allow  any  person 
or  people  to  go  on  in  idleness  and  ignorance 
than  to  compel  them  to  do  something  for  them- 
selves. If  the  Indians  were  made  to  lay  down 
their  arms,  and  stay  at  home  and  work,  the  mis- 
sionaries could  do  more  for  them  in  one  year 
than  they  have  done  in  the  last  forty  years.  God 
pity  the  Indian !  But  if  they  will  not  do  some- 
thing for  themselves,  of  their  own  free  will,  let 
us  compel  them! 

Commissioner  Jones  says  the  cutting  off  of 
rations  from  all  Indians,  except  those  who  are 
incapacitated  from  earning  a  support,  has  had 


136  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

very  gratifying  results,  and,  if  followed  up,  will 
ultimately  lead  to  the  abolition  of  the  reserva- 
tion and  the  absorption  of  the  Indian  into  our 
body  politic.  He  makes  the  emphatic  statement 
that  the  present  Indian  educational  system, 
taken  as  a  whole,  is  not  calculated  to  produce 
the  results  that  were  anticipated  so  hopefully, 
and  may  be  added  to  the  obstacles  to  independ- 
ence and  self-support.  Under  this  class  Mr. 
Jones  has  placed  indiscriminate  issues  of  rations, 
periodical  distribution  of  large  sums  of  money, 
and  the  general  leasing  of  allotments.  In  the 
last  thirty-three  years,  the  report  says,  over 
$240,000,000  has  been  spent  on  an  Indian  popu- 
lation not  exceeding  180,000.  Notwithstanding 
this,  the  Indian  is  still  on  his  reservation,  being 
fed;  money  is  still  being  paid  him;  he  is  still  de- 
pendent on  the  Government  for  existence;  he  is 
"little,  if  any,  nearer  the  goal  of  independence 
than  he  was  thirty  years  ago;  and  if  the  present 
policy  is  continued,  he  will  get  little,  if  any, 
nearer  in  thirty  years  to  come." 

After  the  Indian  excitement  had  died  away, 
we  turned  our  attention  to  farming  near  Beat- 
rice,  where  we  first  settled,   in   Gage   County. 


A    FRONTIER    T,  IFF.  137 

In  the  spring  of  1865  we  bought  a  large,  well- 
improved  farm,  and  planted  a  hundred  and  forty 
acres  of  corn.  This  year  proving  to  be  a  good 
season  for  corn,  we  raised  an  abundant  crop, 
which  we  shelled  and  drew  out  on  the  Little 
Blue;  for  by  this  time  the  stage-line,  broken  by 
the  Indians,  was  repaired  and  running  as  before, 
giving  us  a  good  market  for  our  grain. 


CHAPTER   VI 

Our  Trip  to  the  Black  Hills— A  Fight  with  the  Indians 
at  Plum  Creek— Frightened  at  General  Custer's 
Command — Crossing  the  Platte  River — Work  at 
Julesburg — Keeping  Boarding-tent  for  the  Rail- 
road Men— Making  Ltme  in  the  Hills— Frightened 
by  the  Indians— Return  Home. 

On  the  first  clay  of  January,  1867,  Miss 
Amelia  Potts  and  I  were  united  in  holy  wedlock, 
agreeing  to  share  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  life 
together  so  long  as  we  both  should  live.  Set- 
ting out  in  life  without  the  means  to  accomplish 
our  most  moderate  wishes,  we  keenly  felt  the 
importance  of  a  special  effort  to  prepare  a  home 
and  its  comforts.  With  nothing  but  our  hands 
to  depend  upon,  we  set  them  to  work  at  once. 

In  the  spring  of  1867,  when  the  Union  Pa- 
cific Railroad  was  being  built  from  Omaha  to 
the  Black  Hills,  there  was  considerable  excite- 
ment about  the  wages  the  contractors  were  pay- 
ing for  work  on  the  grade.  Many  of  the  young 
men  of  our  locality  were  talking  of  going  out 
138 


A    FRONTIER    TJFK  139 

there  to  work  during  the  summer  and  fall  sea- 
son. My  brother  Richard,  being  anxious  to  go, 
insisted  on  my  going  with  him.  After  due  con- 
sideration, I  concluded  that  it  would  be  the  best 
thing  1  could  do;  but  Mrs.  Wells  was  not  will- 
ing that  I  should  leave  her  at  home  alone,  and 
wanted  to  go  with  me.  At  first  I  disapproved  of 
her  venturing  among  the  wild  Indians  on  the 
plains;  for  I  knew  what  it  was  for  women  to  be 
among  Indians  in  time  of  trouble,  and  there 
were  already  reports  of  Indian  depredations 
along  the  line  of  the  railroad,  which  made  me 
more  fearful  of  her  going  among  them.  But 
she  concluded  that  if  I  could  go,  she  could;  so, 
after  much  deliberation,  we  determined  that 
both  should  try  our  fortune  on  the  railroad 
among  the  Indians  of  the  plains. 

Brother  and  I  purchased  two  good  breech- 
loading  rifles  for  self-defense,  should  the  Indians 
come  upon  us  as  they  had  previously  done.  Our 
former  troubles  with  them  were  not  forgotten, 
and  we  determined  to  be  better  prepared  to 
meet  them.  As  we  had  nothing  to  leave  but  the 
few  household  effects  we  had  accumulated  dur- 
ing the  winter,  we  could  go  without  any  loss. 


140  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

Purchasing  a  small  span  of  horses  and  an  old 
wagon  for  the  journey,  about  the  first  of  May, 
1867,  with  a  few  camp  equipments,  we  left  home 
for  the  end  of  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad,  which 
was  then  between  the  towns  of  North  Platte  and 
Julesburg.  At  the  end  of  the  first  day's  journey 
we  pitched  our  camp  near  the  junction  of  Big 
Sandy  Creek  and  Little  Blue  River.  The  next 
morning,  while  preparing  for  the  day's  journey, 
an  antelope  saw  our  camp,  and  came  up  within 
a  few  rods  of  us  to  satisfy  his  curiosity.  I  took 
up  my  gun,  and  carelessly  fired,  and,  notwith- 
standing it  was  within  a  very  few  rods  of  us,  I 
missed  the  antelope  altogether,  and  away  it 
bounded  from  our  sight. 

After  two  or  three  days'  journey,  we  fell  in 
company  with  an  emigrant  train,  and  traveled 
with  it  for  several  days,  thus  finding  company 
and  protection  from  the  Indians.  Traveling  up 
the  Little  Blue  River,  along  the  line  of  the  In- 
dian massacre  of  1864,  we  felt  that  we  were 
again  venturing  on  dangerous  ground.  Follow- 
ing the  stream  as  far  as  Pawnee  Ranch — where 
we  had  been  attacked  and  met  so  much  trouble, 
as  previously  noticed — we  crossed  over  the  ridge 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  141 

to  the  Great  Platte  River,  without  molestation 
or  even  seeing  an  Indian.  On  reaching  a  place 
called  Doby  Town,  we  heard  that  the  Indians 
farther  West  were  murdering  the  emigrants 
along  the  road.  Remembering  our  former 
trouble  with  them,  we  were  somewhat  startled 
by  the  rumors,  but  pushed  on.  to  Fort  Kearney, 
where  we  heard  flying  reports  of  horrible  massa- 
cres farther  west  on  the  road.  At  first  we 
thought  of  returning  home,  but  were  not  well 
pleased  with  the  idea  of  being  intimidated  by 
the  red-skins.  Remaining  at  the  fort  a  few  days 
for  further  developments,  we  were  credibly  in- 
formed that  the  savages  were  murdering  the 
people  along  the  road  in  various  places.  We 
were  now  in  a  quandary  as  to  our  further  ac- 
tions, thinking  that  to  turn  back  would  show 
cowardice,  but  to  go  on  was  not  altogether  safe. 
A  man  who  was  at  the  fort  with  a  large 
freight-train  concluded  to  go  on,  and  insisted 
on  our  going  with  him.  Notwithstanding  the 
unfavorable  rumors  that  continued  to  come  to 
us,  we  determined  to  accompany  the  freight- 
train  and  face  the  music.  So,  leaving  the  fort, 
we  again  traveled  toward  the  setting  sun,  keep- 


142  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

ing  a  sharp  lookout  for  the  Indians,  whom  we 
expected  to  pounce  down  upon  us  from  the  hills. 
How  men  will  risk  their  lives  for  the  sake  of 
making  a  few  dollars,  or  because  they  do  n't 
wish  to  be  defeated  in  their  purposes !  We  thus 
exposed  ourselves  to  the  torture  of  the  savages 
for  the  mere  prospect  of  making  a  few  dollars. 
I  have  often  asked  myself  why  men  will  do  just 
what  I  have  done  myself. 

After  a  few  days'  drive  up  the  river  from 
Kearney,  we  found. the  Indians,  or  rather  they 
found  us.  One  bright,  beautiful  day — such  a 
day  as  some  of  the  ladies  would  call  "just 
lovely" — we  camped  by  the  roadside  to  refresh 
ourselves  and  teams.  After  caring  for  the 
teams,  Mrs.  Wells  and  I  were  walking  out  from 
camp,  gathering  fagots  for  a  fire  to  prepare 
our  dinner,  when  suddenly  we  heard  the  cry, 
"Indians  in  the  hills!"  Forgetting  that  we  were 
after  fuel,  we  made  a  forced  march  to  camp. 
Had  we  wandered  far  from  the  train,  undoubt- 
edly the  Indians  would  have  captured  us;  for 
they  were  watching  for  just  such  an  opportu- 
nity. Some  one  had  chanced  to  look  toward  the 
hills  and  saw  the  Indians  peeping  over  them, 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  143 

awaiting  a  favorable  opportunity  to  dash  down 
upon  us  and  capture  the  entire  outfit,  which  they 
would  have  done  had  we  been  altogether  off  our 
guard.  Richard  had  but  that  moment  come 
from  a  spot  near  which  the  Indians  were  first 
seen.  He  had  been  shooting  at  an  antelope 
there,  and  they  could  have  cut  him  off  from 
the  camp  had  they  seen  him.  Our  men  were 
all  called  into  camp  at  the  first  alarm,  and  we 
set  to  work  fortifying  against  any  attack  that 
might  be  made.  The  freight-wagons  were 
mostly  loaded  with  shelled  corn  in  sacks,  which 
were  taken  out  and  piled  around  the  camp,  af- 
fording breastworks  through  which  a  ball  could 
not  penetrate.  This  was  sufficient  protection 
from  an  assault  on  either  side,  and  would  have 
enabled  us  to  hold  the  position  against  four 
times  our  number.  Probably  we  could  have  re- 
pulsed several  hundred  of  the  bloodthirsty  fiends 
had  they  seen  fit  to  give  us  a  trial,  for  there  were 
about  forty  well-armed  men  inside  the  fortifi- 
cation. 

After  the  breastworks  were  complete,  and 
other  things  well  arranged,  some  of  the  men 
walked  out  in  plain  view,  and  by  waving  their 


144  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

hats  invited  the  bloodsuckers  to  come  on;  we 
were  ready  for  them.  A  few  of  the  Indians  rode 
out  on  the  flat  in  open  field,  but  dared  not  come 
within  gunshot.  Those  who  showed  themselves 
were  dressed  in  soldiers'  uniform.  How  they 
came  by  these  clothes  we  never  knew;  but  I 
would  as  soon  believe  that  they  were  the  so- 
called  friendly  Indians,  who  were  then  enlisted 
as  Government  soldiers  for  the  protection  of  the 
whites  in  that  country,  as  that  they  were  wild 
Cheyennes;  and  I  would  as  quickly  risk  my  life 
among  the  wild  Indians  as  among  the  Indian 
soldiers  on  the  plains. 

Shortly  after  these  Indians  rode  out  in  plain 
view  of  us,  they  all  disappeared  in  the  hills. 
Keeping  a  sharp  lookout  for  them,  believing 
that  they  might  make  a  charge  upon  us,  we  soon 
saw  them  streaming  from  the  hills  upon  another 
freight-train  in  camp  about  three  miles  down 
the  river.  In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  it, 
they  reached  that  camp,  and  ran  off"  the  stock, 
leaving  the  men  there  nothing  with  which  to 
move  their  wagons. 

While  still  running,  the  Indians  fired  upon 
the  train-men,  who  were  under  the  wagons  play- 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  145 

ing  cards,  and  had  seen  nothing  of  them  until 
they  began  shooting  and  yelling.  I  have  often 
thought  that  was  a  dear  game  of  cards;  for  if 
the  players  had  been  on  the  lookout,  as  we  were, 
in  all  probability  they  would  not  have  been  mo- 
lested.    So  much  for  card-playing. 

After  frightening  the  stock  from  the  wagons, 
the  Indians  drove  them  into  the  hills.  Then  we 
saw  them  dash  upon  a  ranch  still  farther  down 
the  road,  and  drive  off  all  the  stock  from  that 
place. 

Within  the  few  minutes  we  were  witnessing 
this,  thousands  of  dollars'  worth  of  cattle  and 
horses  were  driven  into  the  hills,  leaving  the 
people  without  means  of  moving  from  the  coun- 
try. We  have  never  learned  what  became  of 
the  loaded  wagons  by  the  roadside;  but  un- 
doubtedly when  the  men  left,  as  they  would  have 
to  do,  the  Indians  came  back  and  destroyed 
them. 

After  guarding  ourselves  and  effects  for  a 
few  hours,  we  reloaded  the  wagons  with  our 
fortifications,  and  traveled  on  without  further 
molestation  that  day.  By  driving  until  late  in 
the  evening,  we  reached  Plum  Creek,  where  we 


146  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

camped.  There  were  a  goodly  number  of  ranch- 
men at  Plum  Creek,  and  we  thought  that,  by 
uniting  our  forces,  we  would  be  quite  safe  for 
the  night.  After  supper  a  guard  was  stationed 
around  the  camp,  and,  believing  that  all  would 
be  well,  we  retired,  and  slept  soundly  until  morn- 
ing. On  looking  out  the  next  morning,  we  dis- 
covered that  one  of  our  ponies  was  gone  from 
the  lariat-rope  to  which  it  had  been  tied.  Think- 
ing that  it  had  broken  the  rope,  we  searched  for 
it,  and  found  traces  of  an  Indian  who  had 
crawled  up  in  the  grass,  cut  the  rope,  and  led 
the  pony  away.  It  had  been  tethered  so  near 
that  it  could  almost  reach  the  wagon  in  which 
we  were  sleeping,  and  yet  it  was  taken  without 
disturbing  us.  On  finding  our  pony  gone,  we 
learned  that  other  horses  had  been  taken  from 
the  barn  at  the  ranch.  This  would  not  have  hap- 
pened had  the  guard  done  their  duty.  Instead 
of  watching  as  they  were  instructed,  as  soon  as 
all  in  the  camp  were  asleep  they  abandoned  their 
post,  and  slept  until  morning,  thus  giving  the 
Indians  the  entire  advantage  of  us.  They  could 
have  come  into  the  camp,  and  murdered  every 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  147 

man  and  woman  before  we  hardly  knew  of  their 
presence. 

Here  I  was,  with  my  wife  and  our  few  camp- 
ing equipments,  with  no  way  to  go  on  or  return. 
But  our  greatest  anxiety  at  this  time  was  our 
own  safety.  Believing  that  there  would  be  some 
way  to  get  out  of  this,  we  did  not  despair, 
though  we  had  no  hope  of  ever  seeing  our 
stolen  pony  again.  After  taking  breakfast  and 
completing  the  morning  work  about  the  camp, 
Mrs.  Wells  and  I  walked  down  to  the  ranch,  not 
more  than  two  hundred  yards  from  our  outfit, 
to  inquire  for  more  news  of  the  theft  during  the 
night.  We  had  been  in  the  house  but  a  few 
moments  when  some  one  cried,  "Indians  are 
coming!"  On  looking  out,  we  saw  that  they 
were  trying  to  steal  all  the  horses  from  the  camp, 
and  run  them  off  into  the  hills.  Seizing  my 
gun,  which  I  had  with  me,  and  taking  Mrs. 
Wells  by  the  hand,  we  for  once  tried  our  speed 
in  running  to  the  camp;  and  it  was  not  a  slow 
race  either;  there  were  several  men  engaged  in 
it,  some  of  whom  we  passed  in  spite  of  their 
efforts  to  keep  pace  with  the  flying  crowd,  and 


148  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

we  were  among  the  first  to  reach  the  wagons. 
On  reaching  the  camp,  one  big  fat  man,  whom 
we  had  left  behind,  came  up,  puffing  and 
blowing  like  an  engine,  and  saying,  "I  was  so 
scared  that  that  woman  outran  me."  Mrs.  Wells 
was  an  unusually  stout  and  active  woman;  she 
could  lift  as  much  as  a  man,  and  run  like  a  deer; 
and,  having  courage  and  bravery  combined  with 
her  strength  and  activity,  she  was  well  fitted 
for  just  such  a  race. 

When  my  wife  was  safely  inside  the  corralled 
wagons,  my  brother  and  I  ran  out  to  head  off 
•the  Indians  as  they  were  passing  by  with  the 
horses.  A  short  distance  from  our  camp  were 
some  old,  vacated  sod  buildings,  which  we 
reached,  and  then  concealed  ourselves,  thinking 
the  Indians  might  come  within  gunshot  of  the 
place,  not  knowing  we  were  there. 

Circling  around  and  around  with  the  horses, 
it  seemed  that  they  would  come  near  us.  But 
we  soon  saw  they  were  not  coming  within  range 
of  our  guns;  so  we  left  our  hiding-place,  and, 
running  out  into  the  open  prairie,  fired  on  them 
as  they  ran.  One  fellow  went  flying  past  on  a 
very  fleet  horse,  and  we  fired  several  shots  at 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  149 

him.  He  was  so  far  away,  and  running  with 
such  speed,  that,  as  near  as  we  could  judge,  he 
was  only  frightened,  and  ran  still  faster;  but 
some  of  the  men  at  the  camp,  who  were  looking 
on,  said  one  of  the  balls  from  my  gun  had  struck 
him.  We  could  never  learn  whether  this  was 
true,  as  the  last  we  saw  of  him  he  was  still  on 
his  pony.  At  the  report  of  our  guns  when  first 
fired,  he  gave  a  tremendous  yell,  and  threw  him- 
self down  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  horse. 
When  he  straightened  up,  we  gave  him  another 
round,  and  again  he  threw  himself  on  the  pony's 
side.  This  maneuver  was  repeated  until  he  was 
out  of  our  reach.  We  supposed  that  his  yelling 
at  the  first  report  of  our  gun  was  to  warn  the 
other  Indians;  for  at  the  sound  of  his  voice  they 
turned  away  and  kept  entirely  out  of  reach  of 
our  guns.  But  he  was  a  wonderfully  frightened 
redskin.  Lookers  on  at  the  camp  said  that  our 
balls  lifted  the  dust  on  every  side  of  him,  and  the 
flying  dust  on  the  farther  side  showed  that  the 
last  ball  from  my  gun  had  passed  over  his  pony's 
back  just  behind  him.  They  also  said  that  every 
time  we  fired  he  would  throw  himself  down  by 
the  side  of  his  horse,  and  fire  his  revolver  at  us 


150  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

under  his  horse's  neck;  we  were  too  busy  send- 
ing lead  after  him  to  notice  all  this.  I  have  since 
thought  that  if  my  brother  had  been  in  posses- 
sion of  my  gun  at  the  time,  he  would  have  at 
least  brought  the  Indian's  horse  to  the  ground; 
for  he  was  one  of  the  best  shots  with  a  rifle  at 
anything  on  the  run  that  I  ever  saw.  His  gun 
failed  to  throw  far  enough  to  reach  the  Indian, 
but  by  elevating  mine  a  little,  it  would  carry  to 
him  every  time. 

Notwithstanding  the  well-directed  efforts  of 
the  men  at  camp,  the  Indians  drove  off  the 
horses  belonging  to  the  entire  outfit,  excepting 
one  pony,  which,  as  luck  would  have  it,  had 
been  tied  close  to  the  wagons.  The  Indians  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  the  horses,  because  of  our 
herding  them  a  short  distance  from  the  camp. 
They  came  upon  them  from  the  bluff,  yelling 
and  shooting  at  our  men,  and  scaring  the  horses 
until  they  were  so  wild  with  panic  that  they  fled 
to  the  hills,  where  they  were  followed  by  the  In- 
dians. They  learned  that  all  they  need  do  to 
take  the  white  man's  horses  was  to  run  in  among 
them  and  yell.  The  horses  would  run  away  with 
fright,  and  the  Indians  followed  them  until  they 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  151 

were  tired  of  running,  when  they  would  sur- 
round and  capture  them.  We  were  not  the  only 
ones  without  teams;  all  those  who  had  horse- 
teams  lost  them,  and  there  were  a  goodly  num- 
ber of  us  together  with  no  prospects  of  leaving 
soon.  Those  with  ox-teams  were  in  the  right 
condition  to  leave,  but  did  not  move  that  day, 
as  they  wished  to  wait  further  developments  be- 
fore venturing  upon  the  road.  The  reader  may 
be  sure  that  we  felt  we  were  in  a  close  place, 
being  so  far  from  home  without  money  or  team; 
but  we  did  not  despair.  We  had  hopes  of  get- 
ting away  safely,  but  how  we  could  not  imagine. 
We  knew  there  was  one  way  if  the  Indians  were 
not  too  numerous  on  the  road.  We  were  good 
travelers,  and  used  to  going  on  foot,  and,  if  we 
could  do  no  better,  Mrs.  Wells  could  ride  the 
pony,  and  we  could  soon  foot  it  out  of  that 
country,  even  if  we  had  to  travel  under  cover 
of  the  night.  The  following  night  passed  with- 
out further  disturbance,  and  next  morning  came, 
with  its  bright  effulgent  rays  streaming  abroad 
as  though  nothing  unusual  had  transpired. 
Soon  after  breakfast,  a  number  of  horsemen 
were  seen  coming  up  the  road  toward  us,  riding 


152  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

as  fast  as  their  horses  could  go.     We  took  them 
to  be  Indians,  and,  amid  great  excitement  in 
camp,  in  a  few  moments  all  hands  were  armed, 
ready  for  the  fray.     As  they  seemed  to  be  keep- 
ing the  road,  some  of  us  crept  out  into  the  weeds 
by  the  roadside,  to  surprise  them  before  they 
should  reach  the  camp.    But  we  soon  discovered 
that  they  were  white  men,  who,  by  their  manner 
of  riding,  led  us  to  believe  the  Indians  must  be 
in  pursuit  of  them ;  so  we  still  expected  an  attack 
by  the  savages.     When  the  horsemen  arrived, 
we  learned  that  they  had  come  to  see  whether 
we   were   all    murdered,    or   needed   assistance. 
They  hitched  their  ponies  to  the  hitching-rack 
by  the  ranch,   and  went  into   the  house.      My 
brother     approached     the     foaming,      panting 
horses,    and    was    surprised    to    recognize    our 
stolen  pony  as  one  of  the  number.    On  inquiring 
of  the  men  where  they  had  found  the  animal, 
they   said    that,    early   in    the    morning,    it   was 
noticed  coming  out  of  the  hills,  dragging  a  long 
rope  that  was  tied  to  its  neck.     We  informed 
them  that  the  pony  was  ours,  and  how  we  had 
lost  it.     They  seemed  gruff,  and  not  disposed 
to   recognize   our   claim.      There   were   five   of 


\    F  RONT1  BR   LIFE  153 

them,  rough,  wicked,  and  well-armed  ranch- 
men, and  gave  us  to  understand  at  once  that 
we  could  not  have  the  pony,  for  they  would  not 
give  it  up  under  any  consideration.  As  we  were 
in  a  locality  where  might  makes  right,  we  hardly 
knew  what  to  do.  There  was  no  law  in  the 
country,  and  we  could  not  expect  justice  from 
that  source.  After  telling  the  trainmen  how  we 
had  found  our  pony,  and  that  the  men  having  it 
in  their  possession  were  determined  not  to  give 
it  up,  they  said,  "There  is  your  pony;  go  and 
take  it,  and  we  will  stand  by  you."  So  we  went 
for  it;  and,  while  Richard  was  taking  off  the 
saddle,  I  unhitched  the  horse  from  the  post,  and 
led  it  away.  Just  then  the  men  came  out  of  the 
house,  armed  to  the  teeth;  but,  on  seeing  the 
trainboys  gathering  around  us  like  bees,  they 
quieted  down,  saying  if  the  horse  was  really 
ours  they  did  n't  want  it,  and  let  us  have  it  with- 
out further  trouble.  I  could  not  but  think  how 
friendly  and  kind  some  men  are  when  compelled 
to  be  so.  We  were  jubilant.  Our  stolen  pony, 
which  we  had  no  hopes  of  seeing  again,  seemed 
to  be  miraculously  restored  to  us.  We  now  felt 
that  we  could  either  go  home  or  move  still  far- 


154  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

ther  into  the  country  of  death  and  destruction, 
and  finally  determined  on  the  latter  course.  The 
secret  of  our  pony's  return  to  us  is :  it  was  a 
chronic  bucker,  and  had  spells  when  it  would 
allow  no  man  to  ride  it.  We  supposed  that  the 
Indian,  after  running  the  horse  into  the  hills, 
had  mounted  its  back,  when,  one  of  those  buck- 
ing spells  coming  on,  it  tossed  Mr.  Indian  into 
the  grass,  and  ran  back  to  the  road,  where  it 
was  taken  up  by  the  white  men.  It  was  fortu- 
nate for  us,  however,  that  the  pony  bucked  with 
the  Indian,  but  allowed  the  white  man  to  ride 
it.     So  much  for  a  bucking  pony. 

The  following  morning,  with  the  ox-train, 
we  moved  on  still  farther  into  the  Indian  coun- 
try, leaving  those  behind  who  had  lost  their 
horses  at  the  ranch,  and  of  them  we  have  heard 
nothing  to  this  day.  Traveling  westward,  we 
kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  marauding  bands  of 
Indians,  who  might  sally  from  the  hills  at  any 
moment.  If  I  mistake  not,  it  was  the  second 
day  after  leaving  Plum  Creek,  while  we  were  in 
camp  at  noon,  that  we  saw  Indian  heads  rise 
above  the  hill  not  far  away,  the  redskins  ap- 
parently   watching   our   movements    about    the 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  155 

camp.  As  we  were  carefully  guarded  and  well- 
prepared  for  defense,  and  thinking  they  dared 
not  attack  us  unless  they  caught  us  off  guard, 
we  hooked  up  our  teams  and  moved  on.  Mean- 
while the  men,  with  guns  in  their  hands,  walked 
between  the  wagons  and  the  bluffs  where  the 
Indians  had  been  seen.  After  going  about  a 
mile  from  the  camping-place,  we  saw  hundreds 
of  horsemen  coming  from  the  hills,  whom  we 
thought  to  be  wild  Indians,  and,  as  they  were 
so  numerous,  we  doubted  not  they  intended 
to  seize  our  entire  outfit.  On  first  seeing  them 
we  did  not  pause  in  our  journey,  but  they  con- 
tinued to  come  in  greater  numbers,  until  the 
whole  country  seemed  black  with  Indians. 
Though  under  extreme  excitement,  we  suc- 
ceeded in  corralling  the  wagons,  and  prepared 
to  sell  our  lives  as  dearly  as  possible.  When  we 
were  altogether  ready  for  what  we  supposed  to 
be  our  last  struggle  for  life,  and  determined  that 
many  of  the  enemy  should  fall  before  we  were 
captured,  lo  and  behold!  Government  wagons 
were  seen  emerging  from  the  hills,  and  we  at 
once  understood  that  the  horsemen  were  Gov- 
ernment soldiers.     From  them  we  learned  that 


156  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

the  Indians  we  saw  looking  over  the  hills  were 
General  Custer's  Indian  guides,  and  the  hun- 
dreds of  horsemen  we  were  preparing  to  fight 
was  Custer's  regiment  of  a  thousand  men. 

Surely  there  was  some  rejoicing  in  camp 
about  that  time.  What  a  change  came  over  our 
feelings !  One  moment  we  saw  the  Indians  in 
the  hills,  but  had  no  particular  fear;  another 
moment  we  expected  to  be  dashed  into  eternity, 
and  then  saw  there  was  no  danger.  The  man 
who  has  had  no  such  experience  has  but  a  faint 
idea  of  our  feelings  under  the  trying  circum- 
stances. 

When  we  went  into  camp  that  night,  Cus- 
ter's entire  command  camped  not  far  away.  In 
a  short  time  afterward  five  big  Sioux  Indians 
came  out  of  the  hills  close  by,  claiming  to  be 
friendly,  and  wanted  something  to  eat.  Our 
train-men,  having  been  so  much  annoyed  by 
the  Indians  along  the  road,  were  determined  to 
give  these  fellows'  carcasses  to  the  buzzards  be- 
before  the  next  morning.  Somehow  they  got 
wind  of  it,  and  appealed  to  General  Custer  for 
protection.  He  fed  and  kept  them  over  night, 
and  in  the  morning  sent  them  on  their  way  re- 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  157 

joicing.  At  different  places  on  the  road  at  this 
time  the  old  Indians,  squaws,  and  children  were 
put  in  care  of  the  Government.  They  claimed 
to  be  friendly,  that  they  might  be  protected  and 
fed,  while  at  the  same  time  the  warriors  were 
on  the  warpath,  killing  all  the  whites  of  whom 
they  could  obtain  any  advantage.  And  when 
the  warriors  were  tired  of  killing  the  whites,  and 
began  to  get  hungry,  they  would  leave  their 
hiding-places,  claim  to  be  friendly,  get  some- 
thing to  eat  from  the  Government,  and  return 
to  the  slaughtering  of  the  white  men  as  before. 
A  good  way  to  carry  on  a  successful  war !  And 
yet  a  great  many  cry,  "O,  the  abused  Indian!" 

It  may  be  asked,  How  do  we  know  these 
statements  to  be  true?  By  closely  observing  the 
movements  of  the  Indians  all  along  the  line  of 
the  road,  we  saw  that  their  actions  indicated 
such  treachery.  Then,  besides,  General  Cus- 
ter's Indian  guides  told  our  men  that  they  knew 
the  five  Sioux  who  came  from  the  hills,  as  men- 
tioned above,  had  been  engaged  in  a  bloody 
massacre  of  the  whites  on  the  Santa  Fe  road 
but  a  short  time  before. 

Now  we  renewed  our  journey  up  the  Platte 


158  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

River,  going  as  far  as  old  Fort  Cottonwood, 
where  we  intended  to  cross  to  the  north  side. 
Usually  the  Platte  at  this  place  was  easily  forded, 
but  at  this  time  its  banks  were  full,  and  the 
crossing  was  difficult.  There  was  no  ferryboat 
here;  but  cross  we  must  in  some  way,  for  we 
dare  not  remain  on  this  side  exposed  to  the 
savages.  Some  of  the  ranchmen  had  a  small 
boat  that  would  carry  five  or  six  men  at  a  time, 
and  this  was  our  only  chance  for  crossing  the 
wild,  rapid,  and  angry  stream.  We  were  com- 
pelled to  take  the  wagons  to  pieces  and  carry 
part  of  them  over  at  a  time.  After  the  wagons 
and  their  loads  were  over,  the  oxen  were  driven 
across  by  men  hanging  to  their  tails,  and  swim- 
ming after  them;  and  the  horses  were  made  to 
swim  alongside  the  boat,  some  of  the  men  lead- 
ing them  by  the  halter,  while  others  rowed.  The 
river  was  about  half  a  mile  wide,  and  we  were 
required  to  make  three  trips  in  order  to  carry 
one  wagon  over.  First  the  bed  was  taken  over; 
then  half  of  the  running-gears  at  each  of  the 
other  trips.  After  about  three  days'  hard  work, 
we  had  all,  bag  and  baggage,  reached  the  north 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  159 

side  of  the  river,  and  were  ready  for  our  western 
march. 

Passing  up  the  line  of  the  railroad,  we  occa- 
sionally saw  the  body  of  some  poor  fellow  who 
had  been  murdered  by  the  Indians,  and  left  at 
the  wayside.  At  one  place  we  found  a  man  who 
had  been  shot  while  upon  a  telegraph-pole  re- 
pairing the  wire.  The  Indians  had  watched  him 
until  he  was  upon  the  pole,  with  no  chance  to 
defend  himself,  then  ran  under  him,  shot  him 
down,  and  cruelly  mangled  his  body.  Possibly 
he  knew  nothing  of  their  presence  until  he  was 
shot.  At  another  place  we  found  a  man  lying 
dead  in  his  wagon-bed,  the  running-gears  hav- 
ing been  taken  away.  His  body  was  almost 
decomposed  and  destroyed  by  vermin.  I  pre- 
sume these  men  had  left  dear  ones  and  homes 
in  the  East,  that  they  might  earn  a  few  dollars 
for  the  necessaries  of  life;  and  in  all  probability 
their  friends  will  never  know  what  has  become 
of  them  until  eternity  reveals  the  secret  things 
of  time. 

Journeying  on  as  far  as  North  Platte,  we 
stopped   there   and   inquired    for   work.      After 


160  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

looking  about  for  a  few  days,  we  sold  our  team, 
the  horses  being  too  light  for  work  on  the  grade, 
and  took  the  train  for  Julesburg,  determined  to 
work  with  our  hands  alone.  After  riding  on  the 
construction-train  most  of  the  night,  at  day- 
light we  reached  the  end  of  the  road,  which  was 
then  within  three  miles  of  Julesburg,  and  a  man 
was  employed  to  take  us  on  to  the  town.  Here 
we  inquired  for  work,  and  found  there  was 
plenty  to  do,  and  that  wages  were  high.  But, 
like  most  people,  we  were  anxious  to  know  what 
would  pay  best  for  our  time  and  labor. 

We  had  been  here  but  a  short  time  when  we 
learned  that  there  was  a  great  demand  for  some 
one  to  do  the  washing  of  clothes,  and  the  people 
were  willing  to  pay  almost  any  price  for  such 
work.  So  Mrs.  Wells  and  I  opened  a  laundry 
in  a  tent,  and  set  to  work  with  a  will  to  make 
something.  My  brother  went  farther  west  into 
the  Black  Hills,  leaving  us  alone  in  a  wild  coun- 
try, and  in  a  tent  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town. 

Though  the  country  was  wild  and  the  peo- 
ple very  wicked,  we  had  no  fear  of  Indians;  for 
there  were  hundreds  of  men  along  the  line  of 
the  road.     When  the  people  learned  that  a  laun- 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  l6l 

dry  had  been  started,  they  brought  us  all  the 
work  we  could  possibly  do,  notwithstanding  the 
enormous  prices  we  charged.  We  demanded 
whatever  our  conscience  would  allow,  and  our 
conscience  was  exceedingly  liberal  at  this  time, 
but  no  one  complained.  The  rule  there  was  to 
ask  for  anything  you  thought  you  could  get. 
Our  price  for  washing  small  articles,  such  as 
socks,  handkerchiefs,  etc.,  was  ten  cents  apiece, 
twenty-five  cents  each  for  colored  or  flannel 
shirts,  and  fifty  cents  for  white  shirts.  I  re- 
member washing  and  ironing  for  one  party 
goods  which  I  carried  home  in  my  arms  that 
brought  us  eleven  dollars.  This,  to  the  reader, 
may  seem  unreasonable;  but  in  order  to  make 
good  wages  we  were  compelled  to  charge  high 
prices  for  our  work.  Our  wash-water  cost  us 
a  dollar  a  barrel,  and  other  things  in  proportion; 
so  these  unreasonable  prices  for  our  work  were 
only  seemingly  so.  Besides,  we  thought  we 
ought  to  have  a  little  extra  pay  on  account  of 
the  numerous  insects  we  were  at  times  com- 
pelled to  wash  with  the  clothes  that  were 
brought  to  us. 

After  we  had  spent  one  month  at  this. kind 
ii 


162  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

of  work,  a  railroad  contractor  at  a  distant  camp 
offered  us  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  month 
and  board  to  cook  for  his  outfit  of  about  a  hun- 
dred men.  We  accepted  his  offer,  counted  our 
money,  and  found  that  we  had,  in  one  month, 
made  one  hundred  and  thirty  dollars  clear  of 
expenses.  During  the  entire  month  we  must 
have  taken  in  at  least  two  hundred  dollars  for 
washing  and  ironing  garments  alone.  I  pre- 
sume that  we  would  have  saved  more  money  had 
we  continued  at  this  business  all  summer;  but 
working  over  the  hot  steam  in  warm  weather 
was  injuring  our  eyes,  and  we  thought  best  to 
abandon  it  and  go  at  something  else. 

Again  we  packed  our  few  things,  boarded 
the  train,  and  moved  still  farther  west,  riding  on 
a  flat-car  in  the  open  air.  On  these  freight-cars 
we  were  not  only  exposed  to  the  wind  and  dust, 
but  to  the  smoke  and  fire  from  the  engine.  The 
few  things  we  carried  along  had  been  thrown  on 
the  car  behind  the  engine,  and  took  fire  while 
on  our  way,  and  came  near  burning  up.  The 
flying  sparks  caught  in  the  dress  Mrs.  Wells 
was  wearing,  and  with  much  difficulty  we  were 
able  to  keep  it  from  burning  her.     If  we  knew 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  163 

no  better  than  to  ride  on  an  open  car  next  to  the 
engine,  the  train-men  should  have  warned  us 
that  we  were  there  liable  to  be  burned  up;  but 
after  this  ride  we  needed  no  warning. 

While  making  this  run  on  the  new  road,  the 
engine  gave  us  a  flying  ride  after  an  antelope. 
As  we  were  puffing  along  at  a  good  rate,  an 
antelope  was  seen  about  a  mile  in  advance  of  the 
train,  speeding  along  the  road,  and  the  engine 
gave  chase.  The  antelope  was  near  the  track, 
but  dared  not  cross.  On  the  other  side  of  it, 
off  the  road,  graders  were  camped,  and  the  ani- 
mal feared  to  turn  either  way,  being  shy  of  the 
shining  rails  on  the  one  side,  and  the  campers 
on  the  other.  After  running  about  two  miles, 
the  engine  began  to  overtake  the  frightened  ani- 
mal, which  seemed  to  be  fast  failing  in  speed. 
About  three  miles  further  on,  the  panting  crea- 
ture was  overtaken,  and  the  engine  slowed  up  to 
give  the  men  a  chance  to  shoot  at  it,  when  it 
ventured  to  cross  the  road  immediately  in  front 
of  the  cow-catcher,  and  escaped.  This  was  one 
of  the  most  amusing  races  I  ever  witnessed.  If 
the  antelope  had  not  tired,  but  gained  strength 
and  activity  as  did  the  engine,  it  would  have 


164  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

gotten  away  sooner.  What  a  wonderful  thing  is 
the  iron  horse !  It  draws  a  wonderful  load,  runs 
fast,  and  never  tires. 

Going  into  camp  among  the  graders  on  the 
railroad,  we  turned  our  hands  to  cooking  among 
and  for  a  very  rough  set  of  men.  Those  who 
know  me  now  would  smile  to  see  me  engaged 
as  I  was  then, — mixing  at  once  about  fifty 
pounds  of  flour  in  a  wash-tub,  and  repeating  this 
every  day  in  the  week.  The  mixing  and  knead- 
ing the  dough  was  too  heavy  work  for  a  woman, 
and  it  fell  to  my  lot.  Besides  this,  there  was  the 
general  work,  which  kept  us  both  busy  early  and 
late.  Usually  we  were  engaged  washing  dishes 
until  after  nine  o'clock  at  night,  and  sometimes 
until  after  ten.  As  we  kept  a  general  supply  of 
everything,  there  was  much  to  do,  and  plenty  of 
material  to  do  it  with.  There  was  bread,  pie, 
cake,  and  pudding  to  bake,  all  of  which  I  had  a 
hand  in  preparing.  As  my  mother  had  trained 
me  to  do  housework  at  home,  it  was  not  alto- 
gether new  to  me.  I  learned  by  experience  that 
a  woman's  work  is  not  an  easy  task,  as  some 
seem  to  think;  and  I  am  sure  I  would  rather  fol- 


A    FRONTIER    LIFK  1 65 

low  a  plow  an  hour  than  stand  by  the  table  and 
wash  dishes  the  same  length  of  time. 

After  cooking  for  this  grading  outfit  for 
about  two  months,  we  bought  a  small  mule-team 
and  went  to  work  for  ourselves.  Not  being  at 
all  pleased  with  the  company  we  were  compelled 
to  be  with  while  on  the  road,  we  left,  and  went 
to  burning  lime  in  the  Black  Hills  with  my 
brother,  whom  we  had  again  fallen  in  with. 
Pitching  our  tent  in  a  deep  canon  among  the 
hills,  we  began  work  on  our  "own  hook."  Here 
we  found  the  best  quality  of  limestone  it  was 
ever  my  lot  to  handle,  and  we  burned  and  sold 
it  for  one  dollar  a  bushel.  By  careful  manage- 
ment, we  made  good  wages  at  this  work;  but 
our  hired  help,  which  wre  thought  necessary,  was 
so  costly  that  it  took  away  much  of  the  profits 
of  our  lime,  though  we  did  well  while  working 
at  it.  In  this  locality  the  whole  surface  of  the 
hill  was  covered  with  hard  blue  limestone  of  the 
best  quality,  and  from  five  to  fifteen  feet  thick. 
The  railroad  graders,  in  making  a  cut  not  far 
from  our  camp,  went  through  this  solid  stone 
where  it  was  some  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  thick. 


1 66  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

and  we  could  get  stone  of  all  sizes  which  they 
had  blasted  and  lifted  aside. 

Burning  lime  did  not  suit  us  altogether,  for 
there  was  more  or  less  Sunday  work  to  be  done, 
though  we  avoided  it  most  of  the  time.  The 
necessary  fuel  could  be  drawn  during  the  week, 
but  by  mistake  at  one  time  we  drew  wood  on 
Sunday.  During  the  week  we  had  been  busily 
engaged  drawing  wood  and  burning  lime,  pre- 
paring for  Sunday.  On  Saturday  as  we  sup- 
posed it  was,  our  hired  men  did  n't  go  to  work 
as  usual,  and  on  our  asking  why,  they  said, 
"We  wish  to  rest  to-day  and  wash  our  clothes." 
We  failed  to  take  the  hint  that  it  was  Sunday, 
told  them  "all  right,"  hitched  up  our  teams,  and 
went  after  wood.  Reaching  the  railroad,  we 
saw  no  one  at  work  there,  and  wondered  what 
it  meant.  After  we  had  loaded  our  wagons,  and 
were  returning  home,  we  saw  that  the  graders 
were  still  lying  around  the  camp  idle,  and  all  at 
once  it  flashed  into  our  minds  that  this  was 
Sunday.  Then  we  saw  how  dull  of  apprehen- 
sion we  were. 

There  were  other  objections  against  our  re- 
maining here.     One  of  the  greatest  was  that  it 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  167 

was  no  place  for  a  woman  to  live.  There  were 
but  few  women,  and  most  of  them  were  of  the 
"baser  sort."  There  were  good,  nice  women 
among  the  graders  on  the  road,  of  course;  but 
these  we  scarcely  ever  saw.  Another  thing, 
there  was  no  religious  society  in  all  the  country, 
and  the  time  spent  here  was  worse  than  thrown 
away,  so  far  as  religion  is  concerned.  Again,  a 
man  was  in  danger  of  losing  his  life  at  any  mo- 
ment, either  by  the  Indians,  who  might  shoot 
him  for  his  scalp,  or  by  some  white  man  who 
would  kill  him  for  his  money.  Of  all  the  rough, 
wicked  places  in  the  wrorld,  this  was  the  worst  I 
ever  saw.  It  was  nothing  uncommon  to  see  a 
man  shot  down  for  the  most  trifling  offense.  It 
was  so  common  a  thing,  indeed,  that  the  boys 
said,  "We  have  a  man  for  breakfast  every  morn- 
ing." As  there  was  no  law,  guns  usually  settled 
all  disputes  and  difficulties.  The  man  or  woman 
who  has  been  in  no  such  place,  has  but  little  idea 
how  low  and  inhuman  some  men  and  women 
become  when  not  under  the  restraint  of  law. 
One  night,  while  we  were  eating  supper,  a  num- 
ber of  intelligent-looking  young  men  came  to 
our  camp  and  said,  "We  heard  that  there  is  a 


1 68  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

man  somewhere  below  here  in  the  canon  who 
keeps  women,  and  we  thought  perhaps  you 
could  tell  us  where  to  find  him."  I  could  only 
tell  them  I  had  heard  of  such  a  person,  but  knew 
nothing  about  him.  O,  how  sad  to  think  of 
those  boys  far  away  from  the  home  where  they 
had  no  doubt  once  lived  under  the  influence  of 
a  pure  mother  and  sisters,  and  now  surrounded 
by  directly  the  opposite,  and  led  astray!  How 
blessed  to  mothers  that  they  can  not  always 
know  what  their  boys  are  doing  when  from 
home ! 

One  morning,  while  Mrs.  Wells  and  I  were 
alone,  we  were  awakened  by  a  drunken  man 
coming  into  the  tent.  The  first  we  knew  of  his 
presence  he  was  standing  by  the  bedside,  his 
face  all  covered  with  blood,  looking  down  into 
our  faces.  In  his  drunken  spree  some  one  had 
pounded  him  up  most  fearfully.  As  I  always 
slept  with  my  gun  where  I  could  lay  hands  on  it 
at  any  moment,  I  reached  for  it,  at  the  same  time 
keeping  my  eyes  on  the  intruder.  My  first  im- 
pulse was  to  shoot  him  down  on  the  spot,  for 
I  was  very  much  frightened,  till,  at  a  second 
glance,  I  discovered  that  he  was  a  drunken  man; 


A    FRONTTKR    LIFE  169 

but,  with  drawn  gun,  he  was  marched  out  of  the 
tent.  I  suppose  that  some  fellow  had  got  him 
drunk,  then  beaten,  and  sent  him  away  with  an 
empty  purse,  as  many  others  had  been  served 
before. 

One  day,  about  noon,  as  we  were  sitting  in 
our  tent,  a  man  who  had  been  robbed  in  this 
way  came  for  something  to  eat.  He  said  some 
one  had  invited  him  to  take  a  social  glass,  which 
he  did,  and  later  awoke  from  unconsciousness, 
to  find  he  had  been  robbed  of  all  his  money, 
and  was  now  far  from  home  and  destitute.  We 
were  afterward  informed  by  other  parties  that 
he  was  not  a  habitual  drinker,  but  had  been  in- 
vited to  drink,  and  was  drugged  and  robbed,  as 
he  told  us.  If  the  man  was  not  a  habitual 
drinker,  this  was  a  good  but  severe  lesson  to 
him;  at  least  a  strong  hint  to  let  the  vile  stuff 
alone  altogether. 

We  were  also  annoyed  by  the  Indians,  who 
were  constantly  doing  mischief  around  us  some- 
where. One  day,  as  Mrs.  Wells  and  I  were  on 
our  way  from  the  hills  to  Cheyenne  City,  look- 
ing behind  us  we  saw  about  thirty  Indians. 
Though  they  were  dressed  in  soldiers'  uniforms, 


170  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

we  knew  not  what  they  intended  to  do,  nor  who 
they  were.  As  before  stated,  the  Government 
kept  a  number  of  Pawnee  Indian  soldiers  out 
here  to  guard  the  graders,  but  we  were  as  sus- 
picious of  them  as  of  the  wild  Indians;  for  they 
had  been  known  to  shoot  white  men  whom  they 
caught  alone  while  hunting.  There  was  little 
consolation,  therefore,  in  encountering  these 
Indian  soldiers.  On  coming  within  about  a  half 
mile  of  us,  they  darted  behind  a  ridge  which  ran 
parallel  with  the  road  for  several  miles,  and  dis- 
appeared from  sight.  Expecting  them  to  follow 
behind  the  hills  a  short  distance,  and  then  come 
upon  us,  I  took  my  trusty  rifle  in  hand,  ready 
to  fire,  keeping  an  eye  upon  the  hills  from  which 
I  thought  they  might  emerge.  At  the  same 
time  I  whipped  up  the  mules,  urging  them  to 
travel  as  for  life,  and  prepared  to  begin  shooting 
the  Indians  as  soon  as  they  were  in  easy  range 
of  my  gun.  Having  a  "Spencer  carbine,"  with 
which  I  could  throw  seven  balls  without  stop- 
ping to  load,  I  could  have  brought  a  number  of 
them  down  before  they  reached  us.  I  knew  that 
if  they  realized  that  I  was  ready  and  watching 
for  them,  they  would  not  be  so  likely  to  venture 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  171 

forth,  for  they  would  expect  some  of  their  num- 
ber to  get  hurt.  In  this  way  we  traveled  several 
miles,  but  saw  no  more  of  them.  I  still  think, 
however,  that  if  I  had  been  altogether  off  my 
guard  they  would  have  given  us  trouble.  With 
the  Indians,  the  murderers,  horse-thieves,  pros- 
titutes, and  drunkards,  this  country  was  a  hell  to 
live  in.  It  was  a  good  place  to  make  money, 
and  we  did  a  satisfactory  business;  but  I  could 
not  consent  to  stay  there  and  throw  myself  away, 
just  for  the  sake  of  making  money.  So  we  quit 
burning  lime,  and  moved  down  to  Cheyenne 
City,  intending  to  start  for  home  in  a  few  weeks. 
Not  being  quite  ready  to  start  for  home 
when  quitting  the  lime  business,  I  left  my  wife 
in  the  city — which  by  this  time  had  grown  to  be 
a  good-sized  place — and  made  a  trip  across  the 
first  chain  of  the  Black  Hills  to  the  Laramie 
plains,  taking  a  load  of  hardware  for  a  ranch- 
man, the  freight  of  which  brought  me  about 
fifteen  dollars.  The  first  night  out  we  camped 
in  a  deep  canon  in  the  hills,  leaving  our  loaded 
wagons  in  the  road  on  top  of  the  hills.  Having 
no  tent  with  us,  we  camped  on  the  ground  in  the 
open  air,  with  the  heavens  for  a  covering,  and 


172  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

the  hills  for  a  shelter  from  the  blast.  It  was 
October,  and  the  winds  were  cold  and  piercing. 
Covering  ourselves  with  good,  warm  blankets, 
we  slept  soundly  until  morning,  when,  on  awak- 
ing, we  found  about  three  inches  of  snow  on 
our  bed,  which  had  helped  to  keep  us  warm. 
Making  the  round  trip  without  any  trouble,  I 
found  Mrs.  Wells  waiting  and  anxious  to  be  off 
for  home,  and  we  determined  to  start  in  a  few 
days. 

Before  leaving,  I  must  give  a  brief  sketch  of 
this  wild  country.  Here  are  broad,  high,  and 
undulating  prairies,  stretching  over  thousands 
of  acres,  interspersed  with  beautiful  streams  of 
water.  Here  are  high  level  lands,  decorated 
with  thousands  of  native  flowers,  the  most  pro- 
fuse of  which  is  the  blooming  cactus,  growing 
so  thickly  over  the  ground  that  a  dog  could 
hardly  pass  through  because  of  the  long,  sharp 
thorns  which,  when  in  bloom,  are  lovely  to  be- 
hold. The  grass  at  this  time  of  the  year  is  very 
short  and  dry;  but  it  is  so  wonderfully  nutritious 
that  it  keeps  the  cattle  in  good  condition  all  the 
year  round.  The  soil  is  sufficiently  rich  to  pro- 
duce an  abundant  harvest  of  corn  or  wheat  if 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  173 

properly  supplied  with  moisture;  because  of  the 
dry  weather  few  things  will  grow  without  irri- 
gation. There  are  cool  streams  of  water  flow- 
ing through  this  parched  land,  that  are  very  in- 
viting to  the  weary  and  thirsty  traveler.  At 
many  places  in  the  mountains  crystal  springs 
may  be  seen  gurgling  from  the  rocks,  affording 
a  refreshing  draught  at  every  season  of  the  year. 
Near  our  limekiln  was  a  high  ledge  of  rock,  from 
which  we  could  look  down  into  a  little,  clear, 
rippling  stream,  more  than  a  hundred  feet  below, 
as  it  dashed  down  the  mountain  on  its  errand  of 
mercy  somewhere  in  the  valley  far  away.  This 
bright  waterfall  burst  from  a  rock  not  more  than 
two  hundred  yards  above  our  camp.  Some  of 
these  streams  go  leaping  from  rocks  in  the 
mountain  side,  hurry  on  a  short  distance  over 
the  surface,  then  plunge  into  the  earth,  only  to 
burst  into  a  fountain  of  water  from  a  rock  in 
another  place.  Thus  they  creep  on  their  way, 
to  water  the  brier  and  the  thorn  by  their  sides, 
and  slake  the  thirst  of  the  withering  flower  that 
sips  from  their  fountains. 

On  the  mountains  the  scenery  is  picturesque, 
enchantingly  beautiful,  and  wondrous  to  behold. 


174  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

Climbing  far  up  among  the  craggy  hills,  you  can 
look  down  in  the  valley,  thousands  of  feet  below, 
where  grow  the  ripening  berries,  and  where  hun- 
dreds of  flowers  are  blooming  in  the  warm  sun- 
shine. Then  turning  your  eyes  to  the  west,  you 
behold  the  snow-covered  mountain  ranges,  pre- 
senting the  appearance  of  midwinter.  Some  of 
these  snow-covered  mountains  are  seventy-five 
or  a  hundred  miles  away,  though,  when  they 
first  loomed  up  in  front  of  us,  as  we  went  toward 
the  hills,  they  appeared  to  be  not  more  than  fif- 
teen miles  distant.  Turning  in  another  direc- 
tion, in  the  distance  may  be  seen  scores  of  moun- 
tains proudly  lifting  their  lofty  peaks  far  above 
the  hills  around  them,  presenting  the  appear- 
ance of  a  large  stackyard  of  wheat,  where  the 
stacks  are  round  and  run  up  to  a  sharp  point. 
As  you  stand  gazing  at  this  scene,  possibly 
you  may  discover  an  approaching  rain-cloud, 
and,  as  it  draws  near,  it  may  seem  to  be  on  a 
level  with  you — neither  higher  nor  lower — but 
as  it  settles  in  the  mountains,  you  look  far  down 
below,  and  there  the  dark  cloud  hangs  and  is 
emptied  into  the  valley.     Beneath  your  feet  are 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  175 

lightnings  and  thunder,  but  cast  your  eyes  to 
the  sky  above,  and  not  a  cloud  is  to  be  seen. 

Here  are  rocks  of  all  forms  and  sizes — some 
in  their  formative  state,  while  others  are  fast 
crumbling  and  falling  to  pieces.  I  have  seen 
rocks,  once  large  and  standing  far  above  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth,  that  have  crumbled  and  fallen 
off  on  the  outside  to  such  an  extent  that,  in  the 
distance,  they  had  the  appearance  of  large  men 
standing  among  the  other  rocks. 

The  above  pictures  are  not  imaginary,  but 
such  as  I  have  witnessed  with  my  own  eyes. 

To  return  to  my  story.  It  was  now  late  in 
the  season,  and  we  were  about  five  hundred  miles 
from  home,  with  cold  weather  coming  on.  But 
we  must  go,  though  it  was  no  small  undertaking 
to  make  such  a  trip  with  a  team,  especially  in 
cold  weather.  Having  nothing  but  our  camp- 
ing outfit  to  carry,  we  put  a  small  sheet-iron 
stove  in  the  wagon,  that  we  might  have  fire  all 
the  time,  if  necessary;  then  Mrs.  Wells  and  I 
turned  our  faces  homeward,  leaving  Richard  in 
the  Black  Hills.  Finding  an  outfit  of  ten  or 
fifteen  men  going  our  way,  we  felt  quite  safe  in 


176  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

traveling;  for  by  this  time  the  Indians  had  ceased 
hostilities  on  the  line  of  the  railroad.  Gathering 
bark  and  chips  for  fuel  as  we  passed  along,  we 
were  enabled  to  keep  warm  both  night  and  day. 
Mrs.  Wells  frequently  prepared  the  meals  while 
traveling,  and  when  the  outfit  stopped  at  noon 
we  had  our  dinner  ready.  I  shot  a  duck  one 
forenoon;  it  was  dressed  and  cooked  while  on 
the  march,  and  ready  for  our  dinner  by  noon. 
One  day,  while  traveling  some  distance  in  ad- 
vance of  the  other  wagons,  we  saw  a  group  of 
antelopes  a  few  hundred  yards  away.  As  there 
were  no  prospects  of  getting  any  nearer,  I  fired 
into  them,  hardly  expecting  to  hit  one;  but  at 
the  crack  of  the  gun  one  fell  to  the  ground.  It 
was  a  pop-shot,  as  we  called  it;  for  I  aimed  at 
no  particular  one,  but  fired  at  the  bunch  as  they 
stood  together.  Strapping  our  game  behind 
the  wagon,  we  went  on,  with  meat  enough  to  last 
the  company  several  days.  All  the  way  east  the 
weather  was  pleasant  and  the  roads  good,  and 
our  homeward  march  a  delightful  trip.  During 
the  trip  there  was  some  freezing  weather,  but 
being  comfortably  housed  in  our  wagon,  it  did 
not   inconvenience   us.      We   reached    home   in 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  177 

good  spirits,  exceedingly  glad  to  have  left  the 
dark  shadows  of  an  uncivilized  country,  once 
more  to  sit  in  the  sunshine  of  a  civilized  com- 
munity. We  were  absent  from  home  about  six 
months,  all  of  which  time  we  lived  in  our  wagon 
and  tent,  and  were  inside  of  a  house  but  a  few 
times  during  our  absence. 

After  returning  from  our  Western  trip,  we 
took  a  homestead  on  an  eighty-acre  piece  of  land 
in  Jefferson  County,  on  Cub  Creek,  and  bought 
forty  acres  adjoining,  which  gave  us  a  nice  start 
in  the  world.  As  there  was  no  house  on  the 
place,  the  first  thought  was  to  build  one.  Hav- 
ing no  money  for  the  purpose,  the  work  must  be 
done  with  my  own  hands,  and  the  house  must 
be  built  of  the  native  material  growing  on  the 
land.  A  sufficient  number  of  logs  were  cut  and 
drawn  together  on  the  building  spot.  The  body 
of  the  house  was  composed  of  round  logs,  laid 
up  and  notched  together,  forming  a  building 
about  six  feet  high  and  eighteen  feet  square. 
After  the  body  of  the  house  was  up,  it  was  left 
for  a  short  time  unfinished.  On  returning  to 
complete  the  job,  I  found  that  the  prairie-fire 
had  broken  out  in  the  neighborhood,  and  burned 


178  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

the  foundation  logs  so  much  as  to  ruin  them 
for  further  use.  A  few  new  logs  were  secured, 
and,  all  alone,  so  far  as  human  help  was  con- 
cerned, I  took  down  that  house  and  rebuilt  it  in 
one  day,  though  the  logs  were  so  heavy  that 
it  would  have  taken  at  least  six  men  to  carry 
them.  This  is  the  way  I  did  it:  Getting  two 
long  poles  (skids),  and  laying  one  end  of  them 
on  the  logs  that  were  in  place  for  the  body  of  the 
house,  and  the  other  end  on  the  ground,  a  way 
was  made  for  rolling  the  logs  to  their  place  one 
at  a  time.  To  put  them  in  the  right  position 
was  impossible  for  one  man  by  main  strength 
alone.  Bringing  my  team  into  service,  it  did  the 
lifting  of  those  heavy  timbers.  The  team  was 
put  on  the  side  of  the  foundation  opposite  the 
log  to  be  rolled  up,  a  long  rope  was  wound 
around  the  log  several  times;  then  the  team  was 
hitched  to  the  end  of  the  rope,  and  made  to  roll 
the  log  where  I  wanted  it.  After  the  body  of  the 
house  was  up,  then  came  the  roof,  which  was 
made  of  poles,  straw,  and  dirt.  The  cracks  be- 
tween the  logs  composing  the  body  of  the  house 
were  first  filled  with  chinking,  and  then  daubed 
with  clay  from  the  natural  soil.     A  rough  floor 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  179 

of  native  lumber  was  laid,  giving  us  quite  a  com- 
fortable house.  At  least  we  thought  so  at  that 
time. 

The  reader  may  want  to  know  something  of 
our  furniture.  Soon  after  we  were  married,  one 
of  the  neighboring  women  asked  some  of  our 
friends  in  what  city  we  intended  to  buy  our  furni- 
ture. I  thought,  "Furniture?  We  need  nothing 
of  the  kind.  A  few  boards  for  a  table,  a  few 
poles  for  a  bedstead,  and  a  couple  of  nail-kegs 
to  sit  on,  is  all  the  furniture  needed  in  such  a 
happy  home  as  ours."  Just  as  well  ask  a  million- 
aire what  sod-house  he  is  going  to  occupy  as  to 
ask  a  backwoodsman  where  he  is  going  to  buy 
his  furniture. 

During  the  summer  of  1869,  Mrs.  Wells's 
health  suddenly  began  to  give  wav,  and  it  was 
plain  to  be  seen  that  she  was  being  hurried  to 
the  grave  by  that  dreadful  disease,  quick  con- 
sumption. As  the  flower  is  withered  by  the 
deadly  stroke  of  the  untimely  frost,  so  this  once 
strong  and  active  woman  was  fast  withering  be- 
neath the  stroke  of  the  dire  disease.  We  did  all 
in  our  power  to  arrest  it;  but  on  it  swept,  like 
an  angry  wave,  and  her  health  rapidly  declined. 


180  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

From  the  first  the  doctors  seemed  to  cherish 
but  little  hope  of  her  recovery;  but  it  hardly 
seemed  possible  that  she  could  be  taken  from  us 
so  soon.  She  thought  that,  in  her  dreams,  she 
was  warned  that  death  was  not  far  away.  As 
she  related  to  me  her  night  visions,  she  seemed 
to  think  that  they  were  messages  from  God,  that 
she  might  know  of  her  early  departure  from  this 
world;  therefore  she  was  not  surprised  when  the 
summons  came. 

On  the  twentieth  day  of  December,  1869,  she 
grew  much  worse,  and  realized  that  her  time  on 
earth  was  numbered  by  hours  only.  We  at  once 
called  her  friends  to  her  bedside  to  bid  her  fare- 
well ere  she  crossed  the  stream  of  death.  She 
was  perfectly  rational  to  the  last,  told  of  her 
prospects,  that  all  was  well;  then  said  to  me, 
"Take  the  babe  and  raise  her  yourself,  and  teach 
her  to  read  the  Bible,  which  is  best  of  all."  After 
giving  instructions  about  the  baby  she  requested 
some  one  to  sing.  During  the  singing,  she 
raised  her  hands  and  praised  the  Lord.  Soon 
after  the  singing  ceased,  she  closed  her  eyes  on 
earth  to  open  them  in  heaven.  On  the  21st  of 
December,    1869,    her    happy   soul    quietly   fell 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  l8l 

asleep  in  Jesus,  leaving  me  with  a  motherless 
child  about  twenty-one  months  old.  O  what  a 
blow  to  my  earthly  prospects!  In  this  hour  I 
could  only  look  to  the  Lord  for  help  and  com- 
fort. 

My  cherished  hopes  are  now  all  gone ; 

My  bosom  friend  hath  flown, 
To  find  and  wear  her  golden  crown, 

And  left  me  all  alone. 
No,  not  alone  ;  my  babe  is  here — 

No  mother's  love  to  know, 
And  I  must  live  its  heart  to  cheer 

While  struggling  here  below. 

No  one  knows  the  sorrow  of  a  heart  thus 
smitten  but  he  who  has  tasted  of  the  bitter  cup. 
Among  the  most  heartrending  scenes  in  all  my 
life  is  that  of  little  children  left  without  a  mother; 
and  yet,  in  the  course  of  nature,  these  things 
must  be. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Frontier  Work  in  the  Ministry— Call  to  the  Ministry 
—My  First  Appointment— Removed  to  Red  Cloud 
—My  First  Trip  to  Red  Cloud— Organization  of  the 
First  Class  on  the  Red  Cloud  Circuit— Moving  to 
Red  Cloud— Camp  under  a  Bush,  and  pull  Grass  for 
a  Bed — Experience  on  the  Charge. 

From  boyhood  to  mature  age  I  felt  a  Divine 
call  to  the  ministry.  Try  as  I  would  to  get  rid 
of  that  impression,  it  never  left  me.  "Woe  is  me 
if  I  preach  not  the  gospel !"  ever  sounded  in  my 
ears,  night  and  day.  When  I  tried  to  shake  off 
the  responsibility,  I  felt  that  to  yield  was  to  be 
saved,  to  refuse  was  to  be  lost.  So,  after  years 
of  delay,  I  yielded,  and  entered  the  work  some 
time  in  the  winter  of  1857.  When  I  was  seven- 
teen years  of  age  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  gave  me  an  exhorter's  license.  In  that 
capacity  some  work  was  done  for  the  Church, 
but,  failing  to  enter  the  open  doors  which  were 
continually  inviting  me,  very  little  was  accom- 
plished for  the  Master. 

In  the  year  1867,  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven, 
182 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  183 

in  a  little  town  by  the  name  of  Blue  Springs, 
which  is  located  on  the  Blue  River,  in  what  was 
then  Beatrice  Circuit,  Nebraska  City  District, 
Nebraska  Conference,  I  was  granted  a  local 
preacher's  license.  After  this  I  did  considerable 
preaching  in  different  localities,  traveling  on  foot 
six  and  seven  miles  through  the  dust,  and  under 
a  scorching  sun,  to  my  appointments.  Yet  that 
failed  to  relieve  my  mind,  for  I  still  felt  that  all 
my  time  should  be  given  to  the  ministry. 

In  the  spring  of  1871  my  case  was  submitted 
to  the  Quarterly  Conference,  and  I  was  recom- 
mended to  the  Annual  Conference  for  admission 
on  trial.  At  the  session  of  the  Nebraska  Annual 
Conference  my  name  was  placed  among  those 
admitted  on  trial,  and  I  was  sent  to  the  Fairbury 
Circuit.  Having  now  entered  the  regular  work, 
I  must  have  clothes,  books,  and  a  horse,  and  the 
only  way  I  could  contrive  to  get  them  was  to  sell 
my  land.  All  the  land  I  owned  was  sold  for  five 
hundred  dollars,  and  spent  in  preparing  for  the 
work  of  the  ministry.  After  purchasing  a  horse 
and  some  of  the  necessary  books,  I  moved  upon 
my  charge,  leaving  my  child  with  her  grand- 
mother.    Finding  a  boarding-place  in  the  home 


184  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

of  Brother  M.  Hurlbert,  I  went  to  work  with 
considerable  zeal  and  hopefulness.  On  coming 
to  this  work  I  was  a  stranger  in  a  strange  coun- 
try, and  had  much  trouble  in  finding  my  appoint- 
ments as  well  as  the  membership.  Starting  early 
one  Sunday  morning  to  one  of  my  preaching- 
places  several  miles  away,  the  wrong  road  was 
taken,  which  led  me  far  out  of  the  way,  and  I  was 
late  in  reaching  the  place.  The  congregation 
assembled,  and  anxiously  awaited  the  coming  of 
the  new  preacher  until  past  the  hour  for  services. 
Thinking  that  I  would  not  be  there,  they  started 
for  home,  most  of  them  on  the  same  road. 
When  within  about  a  mile  of  the  schoolhouse 
where  I  was  to  preach,  I  met  the  congregation 
going  home.  Halting  them,  and  making  myself 
known,  I  told  them  that  if  they  would  stop  by 
the  roadside  we  would  have  services.  Fortu- 
nately we  met  where  a  number  of  hewed  logs  had 
been  drawn  together  for  the  purpose  of  erecting 
a  house.  Requesting  my  strange  audience  to  be 
seated  on  the  logs,  I  preached  the  gospel  to 
them  by  the  roadside.  At  the  close  of  the  serv- 
ice the  congregation  took  the  road  home,  and  I 
went  on  to  my  next  appointment. 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  185 

At  this  time  Fairbury  Circuit  consisted  of 
Fairbnry,  Steel  City,  Rock  Creek,  Rose  Creek, 
and  Hurlbert  appointments.  Providing  myself 
with  a  pair  of  old-fashioned  saddlebags,  I  trav- 
eled this  large  circuit  on  horseback.  At  one 
point  on  the  charge  I  was  not  well  received, 
which  caused  me  great  sorrow  of  heart.  The 
brethren  at  this  place  had  requested  the  presiding 
elder  to  send  them  a  married  man,  and  I  was 
now  single.  Besides,  I  was  a  boy  in  the  work, 
and  but  recently  from  the  farm.  The  three  com- 
bined faults  were  very  hard  for  some  of  them  to 
endure  even  for  one  year. 

Notwithstanding  the  opposition  which  I  met 
at  some  of  the  points,  success  crowned  my  feeble 
efforts  as  long  as  I  remained  on  the  charge. 
Time  to  me,  now,  was  very  precious.  My  Con- 
ference studies  were  to  be  brought  up,  and  stud- 
ies in  the  common  branches  of  the  English  lan- 
guage were  continued.  I  could  carry  on  my 
reading  and  study  only  in  leisure  hours  at  home, 
or  while  riding  from  house  to  house  in  pastoral 
work  and  from  one  appointment  to  another. 
There  being  no  church  building  of  any  kind  on 
the  entire  charge  at  that  time,  our  meetings  were 


l86  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

held  in  sod-houses,  dug-outs,  and  small  frame 
schoolhouses,  where  a  goodly  number  of  the  set- 
tlers gathered  to  hear  the  gospel  and  worship 
the  Lord. 

I  soon  learned  that  to  succeed  as  a  Methodist 
preacher  in  a  new  country  I  must  have  "get, 
grit,  and  grace,"  and  that  I  must  fear  neither 
debt,  dust,  nor  the  devil,  and  the  homes  of  the 
poor  and  destitute  must  be  visited.  The  refined 
and  cultured,  too,  must  be  won  for  Christ  and 
the  Church.  This  work  demanded  courage  and 
determination,  and  was  especially  hard  for  one 
unused  to  facing  the  public,  as  I  was  at  that  time. 

I  worked  on  the  charge  in  this  way  until 
some  time  in  the  summer  at  my  second  quarterly- 
meeting,  when  the  brother  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed pastor  on  the  Republican  Valley  Circuit, 
including  all  of  the  Republican  Valley  in  the 
State  of  Nebraska,  came  to  me,  and  said,  "I  have 
been  out  on  my  work,  and  there  is  nothing  there; 
and,  besides,  I  do  n't  like  to  go  where  I  have  to 
use  this,"  at  the  same  time  drawing  a  revolver 
from  his  pocket,  and  showing  it  to  me.  He  came 
to  our  quarterly-meeting  to  see  if  the  presiding 
elder  would  not  give  him  another  work.     After 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  187 

listening  to  his  pitiful  story,  the  presiding  elder 
concluded  to  relieve  him  of  his  charge,  and  give 
him  a  part  of  mine,  especially  that  part  where 
they  wanted  a  married  man.  To  this  I  gladly 
consented,  and  for  a  short  time  we  worked  the 
Fairbury  Circuit  together. 

Soon  after  the  above-named  quarterly-meet- 
ing, Brother  Maxfield,  our  presiding  elder,  wrote 
me  that  there  were  Methodists  at  Red  Cloud, 
in  the  Republican  Valley,  and  he  wanted  a  min- 
ister to  look  after  them,  adding,  "There  is  no  use 
sending  Brother  C,  whom  the  Conference  had 
assigned  to  that  work.  I  want  some  one  who 
has  sand  in  his  craw." 

After  duly  considering  the  matter,  I  wrote 
him  that  I  would  volunteer  to  go.  It  was  not 
long  before  an  answer  came  to  my  letter,  reliev- 
ing me  of  the  Fairbury  Charge,  and  informing 
me  that  the  presiding  elder  would  be  pleased  to 
have  me  go  to  Red  Cloud,  see  what  was  going 
on  there,  and,  if  possible,  form  a  circuit  through- 
out the  valley.  By  this  time  I  had  provided  my- 
self with  an  old  buggy,  and  was  pretty  well  fixed 
for  traveling.  Persuading  a  young  class- 
leader — A.  L.  Goss,  deceased,  who  was  afterward 


l88  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

admitted  into  Nebraska  Conference  on  trial — 
to  accompany  me  to  the  new  field  of  labor, 
with  horse,  buggy,  and  camp  equippage,  we 
turned  our  faces  toward  Red  Cloud.  If  failing 
to  find  a  house  where  we  could  stay  when  over- 
taken by  night,  we  camped  by  the  roadside  in 
the  open  air.  I  well  remember  camping  one 
evening  on  a  beautiful  spot  by  the  roadside,  and 
of  thinking  what  a  nice  night  we  should  spend 
in  such  a  comfortable  place.  We  had  been  in 
bed  but  a  short  time  when  more  than  a  thousand 
callers  came,  and  with  a  thousand  voices  sang 
their  evening  song,  all  claiming  blood  relation- 
ship, which  we  soon  realized  to  be  true,  for 
before  they  left  us  we  knew  that  they  were  blood 
of  our  blood.  If  there  is  anything  more  annoy- 
ing than  the  pesky  mosquito  when  one  is  tired 
and  sleepy,  it  must  be  either  fleas  or  bedbugs. 
We  fought  our  assailants  until  almost  morning, 
when  they  retreated  with  their  spoil,  and  left  us 
in  full  possession  of  dreamland. 

In  the  evening  of  the  next  day  we  reached 
Guide  Rock,  a  little  town  in  the  Republican  Val- 
ley, a  few  miles  below  Red  Cloud,  where  we  put 
up  with  a  Mr.  G.,  who  was  one  of  the  leading 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  189 

men  of  the  place.  When  informed  who  we  were 
and  of  onr  business,  he  seemed  wonderfully  sur- 
prised. I  thought  then,  and  still  think,  that  he 
suspected  we  were  rogues  of  some  kind.  Early 
the  next  day  we  reached  Red  Cloud,  and  the  first 
man  we  met  at  this  little  town  was  ex-Governor 
Garber,  who  seemed  pleased  to  know  of  our  mis- 
sion. Following  his  directions,  we  found  a 
Methodist  family  some  four  or  five  miles  from 
town.  On  visiting  this  family  (F.  E.  Penny), 
and  making  ourselves  known,  we  were  received 
with  joy  and  gladness.  Here  we  spent  the  night, 
and  learned  of  five  Methodists  in  the  community. 
Saturday,  the  following  morning,  we  left  an  ap- 
pointment at  Brother  Penny's  house  for  Sunday 
morning  service,  and  went  on  up  the  valley  in 
search  of  other  Methodist  people.  After  travel- 
ing about  five  miles,  we  encountered  a  family 
who  were  encamped  and  taking  dinner  by  the 
roadside.  We  called  upon  them,  made  ourselves 
known,  learned  they  were  Methodists,  took  din- 
ner with  them,  and  prayed  and  had  a  rejoicing 
time.  Near  where  his  tent  stood,  this  good 
Methodist,  Brother  Knight,  afterward  built  a 
house,  in  which  I  preached  often  for  about  eight- 


190  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

een  months.  Here,  too,  we  had  Sunday-school, 
singing-school,  and  a  Methodist  hotel.  Here 
was  formed  a  little  class,  with  Brother  and  Sister 
Knight  at  the  head,  who  became  leaders  of  all 
Church  work  in  the  community. 

After  our  enjoyable  dinner  and  a  profitable 
season  of  prayer  and  praise  in  Brother  Knight's 
tent,  as  before  mentioned,  we  returned  to 
Brother  Penny's,  near  Red  Cloud,  where  we  had 
left  the  appointment  for  Sunday  morning. 

On  Sunday  morning  I  preached  in  Brother 
Penny's  house,  and  formed  a  class  of  five; 
namely,  F.  E.  Penny,  Hattie  Penny,  John  Penny, 
James  Romine,  and  Elizabeth  Romine.  This 
was  the  first  sermon  preached  in  that  section  of 
country  by  a  traveling  minister  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  and  the  first  class  formed  at 
Red  Cloud  or  anywhere  on  what  is  now  the 
Hastings  District.  The  class  was  formed  some 
time  in  the  latter  part  of  the  summer  of  1871. 

On  the  following  Monday  morning,  after 
little  more  than  a  week's  absence,  I  started  on 
my  return  trip,  to  remove  my  few  effects  to  the 
new  field  of  labor.  I  reached  Fairbury,  dusty, 
hungry,  and  tired,  but  well  pleased  with  my  trip. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  191 

After  a  few  days'  rest  and  preparation,  my  valu- 
ables were  packed  in  a  one-horse  buggy,  and  I 
bid  adieu  to  the  people  of  Fairbury,  and  started 
back  to  the  Red  Cloud  country.  Traveling  up 
Rose  Creek,  and  crossing  the  ridge  between  the 
Little  Blue  and  Republican  Rivers,  I  found  only 
one  house  after  leaving  the  head-waters  of  Rose 
Creek,  until  reaching  the  Republican  Valley, 
where  I  obtained  lodging  for  the  night  with  a 
family  living  in  a  dug-out.  There  was  only  one 
room  in  the  house,  which  was  used  for  sitting- 
room,  kitchen,  and  bedroom.  The  husband  was 
gone  from  home,  leaving  the  mother  alone  with 
her  little  children;  and  yet  I  was  made  welcome 
and  comfortable  for  the  night.  There  were  two 
beds  in  the  room,  with  the  foot-boards  snug 
against  each  other.  On  one  of  these  I  slept, 
while  the  mother  and  her  children  occupied  the 
other.  Such  is  itinerating  in  a  new  country. 
Here  were  no  hotels,  but  nearly  every  house 
afforded  entertainment  for  the  traveler.  The 
next  morning  was  a  soul-cheering  one,  and  with 
joy  I  went  on  my  way  up  the  Republican  Valley. 
During  the  day  a  number  of  houses  were  passed. 
I  think  about  noon  I  passed  a  place  where  peo- 


192  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

pie  were  living.  Traveling  on  until  late  in  the 
afternoon',  my  horse  began  to  show  signs  of 
weariness,  and  I  looked  about  for  a  place  of 
shelter;  but  seeing  none,  I  continued  my  journey 
until  late  in  the  evening,  when  I  decided  to  camp 
for  the  night.  I  stopped  by  a  bush  about  four 
feet  high,  and,  unhooking  the  horse  from  the 
buggy,  I  tethered  him  by  the  roadside.  After 
making  my  horse  as  comfortable  as  possible,  I 
began  to  prepare  a  place  for  myself.  I  set  to 
work  pulling  grass,  and  piled  it  under  the  bush 
for  a  bed.  After  gathering  a  sufficient  amount 
for  this  purpose,  I  stretched  an  umbrella  over 
the  bush,  and  retired  to  bed  and  to  sleep.  On 
the  prairie,  in  the  grass,  and  under  a  bush,  my 
slumber  was  wholesome.  The  morning  dawned 
bright  and  clear;  but  found  me,  as  did  the  night, 
without  food  to  stay  the  cravings  of  hunger. 
As  the  sun  rose,  I  began  my  journey  toward  the 
west,  earnestly  looking  for  a  house  where  my 
hunger  might  be  satisfied.  After  going  about 
ten  miles,  I  found  one,  and  of  course  was  not 
turned  away  hungry,  for  such  was  seldom  the 
manner  of  the  early  settlers.  The  reader  may  be 
sure  that  that  was  a  relished  meal.    It  was  good, 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  193 

wholesome    food,    highly    flavored    with    about 
twenty  hours  of  fasting. 

Leaving  my  hospitable  entertainers,  I  passed 
on  to  Guide  Rock,  and  found  lodging  for  the 
night.  The  following  day  I  reached  the  house 
of  Brother  Penny,  where  I  made  my  home. 

Now  came  the  tug  of  war  with  real  frontier 
work  in  the  ministry.  For  the  first  few  months 
my  time  was  principally  spent  in  looking  over 
the  country  for  Christian  people  and  for  houses 
to  preach  in.  Soon  after  reaching  Red  Cloud 
an  appointment  was  made  at  Brother  Penny's, 
about  four  miles  southwest  of  town,  and  at 
Brother  Knight's,  some  five  miles  from  Red 
Cloud  up  the  valley,  and  another  one  about  eight 
miles  southeast  of  town. 

At  the  Penny  appointment  preaching  was  in 
Brother  Penny's  house,  which  was  a  log  build- 
ing, with  a  roof  made  of  "shakes"  split  from  the 
native  oak-trees  on  his  own  place.  Here  I  had 
a  good  preaching  point  during  my  entire  pas- 
torate on  the  charge.  At  Red  Cloud  I  procured 
a  vacant  log  building,  which  I  occupied  for  a 
short  time,  then  preached  in  Mr.  Garber's  store- 
room for  a  while;  after  this  I  moved  into  a  dug- 
13 


194  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

out  in  the  south  part  of  town,  which  shall  be 
noticed  further  on.  At  the  Knight  appointment 
I  preached  in  Brother  Knight's  house,  and,  if  I 
remember  correctly,  it  was  covered  with  poles 
and  dirt,  and  had  a  floor  of  native  soil.  Here, 
as  previously  noticed,  we  sang,  prayed,  preached, 
ate,  and  slept,  all  in  the  same  room,  and  had  a 
glorious,  good  time.  At  the  appointment  south- 
east of  Red  Cloud  we  had  preaching  and  Sunday- 
school  in  a  dug-out  in  the  bank  of  a  creek,  where 
we  worshiped  the  Lord  in  the  winter  season,  and 
in  the  summer  we  worshiped  under  the  branches 
of  two  large  oak-trees.  Under  these  native  trees 
I  preached,  held  Sunday-school,  and  we  made 
the  woods  and  hills  ring  with  our  songs  of  praise 
and  plain  gospel  sermons.  I  often  wonder  if  the 
echo  of  my  voice  is  not  still  heard  in  that  new 
country.  The  many  happy  hours  I  spent  among 
those  warm-hearted  early  settlers  in  dug-outs 
and  sod-houses,  will  never  be  forgotten.  They 
will  be  held  in  sweet  remembrance  as  long  as 
I  live. 

The  house  where  I  boarded  was  about  as 
good  as  the  country  afforded  at  that  time,  and 
yet  it  was  a  very  uncomfortable  place  in  cold, 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  195 

stormy  weather.  Many  times  I  have  sat  poring 
over  my  books  while  the  snow  sifted  through 
the  roof  upon  them,  and  I  was  compelled  to 
throw  something  over  my  shoulders  and  sit  in 
a  stooping  posture  in  order  to  keep  my  books 
from  being  soiled.  Though  the  house  was  open 
to  the  cold,  we  could  keep  comfortably  warm,  for 
we  were  blessed  with  plenty  of  wood  and  a  large 
fireplace.  I  say  plenty  of  wood  :  there  was  plenty 
close  by,  but  much  of  the  time  I  carried  it  from 
the  grove  on  my  own  shoulders.  In  cold 
weather,  Brother  Penny  was  usually  on  the  road 
teaming,  and  left  me  to  replenish  the  wood-pile 
without  a  team. 

Another  burden  was  imposed  upon  me.  A 
good  brother  who  lived  a  mile  from  my  board- 
ing place  was  compelled  to  leave  home  and  find 
work,  that  he  might  provide  bread  for  his  family. 
While  he  was  away,  there  came  a  heavy  fall  of 
snow.  The  weather  grew  exceedingly  cold,  and 
the  fuel  he  had  provided  for  his  family  was  en- 
tirely consumed.  As  there  was  no  other  man 
near,  it  fell  to  my  lot  to  replenish  this  brother's 
wood-pile  also,  and  keep  his  family  from  freez- 
ing.    He  had  drawn  up  a  lot  of  ash-poles  for 


196  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

fencing,  which  I  converted  into  stove-wood,  and, 
on  his  return,  he  found  his  fencing  had  been 
burned  to  ashes. 

There  is  a  vast  difference  between  acting  the 
part  of  a  city  pastor  and  preaching  on  a  large 
circuit  in  the  frontier  work.  While  the  city  pas- 
tor is  sitting  in  his  cozy  study  at  home,  the  fron- 
tier preacher  is  perusing  his  books  in  a  cold 
room,  with  the  family  of  children  about  him,  or 
traveling  through  the  deep  snow  to  meet  his 
appointments,  or  to  relieve  the  sick  and  desti- 
tute. Yet  there  is  a  glory  in  laying  the  founda- 
tion of  our  beloved  Zion  in  a  new  country  that 
many  of  our  Eastern  preachers  know  nothing 
of.  I  have  no  disposition  to  envy  the  compara- 
tively easy  lot  of  our  Eastern  brethren;  but  I 
do  sympathize  with  them  in  their  loss  of  the 
glory  there  is  in  laying  the  foundation  of  our 
Church  in  new  fields,  upon  which  others  may 
build. 

In  all  my  travels  on  that  large  circuit  at  Red 
Cloud  through  the  snow  and  cold,  piercing 
winds  of  winter,  I  neither  had  an  under-garment 
nor  an  overcoat.  Being  born  a  backwoodsman, 
P  did  not  mind  such  things  as  one  would  who 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  197 

had  been  used  to  the  comforts  of  life.  On  this 
charge  I  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  houses 
to  preach  in;  for  when  first  going  to  the  place 
there  were  no  schoolhouses  in  all  the  country;  so 
I  preached  in  private  houses,  hoping  for  the  time 
when  my  congregation  could  have  even  a  sod 
schoolhouse  to  worship  in.  Even  in  the  town 
of  Red  Cloud  I  was  compelled  to  resort  to  a 
little  dug-out  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village, 
where  we  held  a  series  of  meetings  which  re- 
sulted in  great  good  for  the  Master's  cause.  Let 
the  pastors  of  the  present-day  beautiful  churches 
in  Red  Cloud  rejoice  that  they  are  so  comfort- 
ably situated,  and  remember  that  the  first  pastor 
and  his  little  flock  in  that  now  flourishing  town 
preached,  sang,  and  prayed  in  a  small  dug-out 
in  the  ground. 

On  first  coining  to  this  country,  I  found 
Indians,  buffaloes,  deer,  antelopes,  turkeys,  thou- 
sands of  prairie-dogs,  and  a  few  white  men  with 
their  families.  What  a  change  has  taken  place 
in  that  country  in  so  short  a  time !  Then  it  was 
new,  wild,  and  desolate;  now  it  is  a  well-settled, 
rich,  and  fertile  country,  with  schoolhouses  and 
churches;  and   fine   residences   have   taken   the 


198  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

place  of  the  dug-out,  the  sod-house,  and  the  log- 
cabin.  The  first  winter  I  spent  there,  I  killed 
twelve  wild  turkeys,  two  of  which  were  shot  from 
the  window  of  my  room.  Besides  these,  Brother 
Penny  killed  some  seven  or  eight.  So  you  see 
the  wild  turkey  took  the  place  of  the  yellow- 
legged  chicken.  Then,  occasionally,  some  one 
chanced  to  kill  a  deer  or  a  buffalo,  which  went 
far  toward  supplying  the  table  with  meat  the 
entire  year. 

During  the  winter  we  held  a  revival-meeting 
in  our  dug-out  church,  eight  miles  southeast  of 
Red  Cloud.  Though  worshiping  under  ground, 
there  were  many  souls  saved  and  made  happy 
in  the  Lord,  and  there  was  a  glorious  awakening 
among  the  people  of  God.  Truly  the  Lord  is 
not  confined  to  the  large  assemblies,  the  city-full, 
or  the  fine  churches,  but  meets  and  blesses  his 
people  in  the  dug-out,  the  sod-house,  and  the 
log-cabin.  O  what  a  wonderful  God  is  our  God, 
who  heareth  the  prayers  of  his  people  at  all  times 
and  in  all  places! 

In  the  spring  of  1872  I  finished  my  first  year's 
work  in  the  Conference  and  on  the  Red  Cloud 
Circuit,  and  went  to  Conference  to  report  my 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  199 

charge.  Traveling  from  Red  Cloud  to  the  seat 
of  Conference,  a  distance  of  a  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  or  more,  through  mud,  rain,  and  cold,  I 
reported  as  follows:  Full  members,  23;  proba- 
tioners, 6;  received  on  salary  from  the  circuit, 
$32;  from  the  Missionary  Society,  $150 — mak- 
ing $182  for  the  year.  The  bishop  returned  me 
to  the  Red  Cloud  Circuit,  where  I  spent  another 
year  of  toil  and  hardship,  worrying  through  the 
year  about  as  I  did  the  previous  one.  During 
the  warm  season  I  had  a  good  and  enjoyable 
time  in  traveling  up  and  down  the  valley  and 
across  the  prairie  with  my  horse  and  buggy;  but 
in  the  snow  and  severe  winds  of  winter,  being 
poorly  clothed,  I  suffered  intensely  from  the 
cold.  During  this  year  a  class  was  formed  at 
Guide  Rock,  which  was  made  a  regular  preach- 
ing-point, though  there  were  but  few  Method- 
ists at  the  place  or  within  reach  of  it.  I  now 
had  five  preaching-points  on  the  charge,  which 
gave  me  abundance  of  work. 

In  the  summer  of  1872  we  held  a  camp- 
meeting  southwest  of  Red  Cloud,  on  what  was 
called  Penny  Creek.  Here  we  had  a  successful 
meeting,    and    received    some    fifteen    into    the 


200  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

Church  on  probation,  and  the  presiding  elder, 
J.  B.  Maxfield,  baptized  a  number  of  converts 
in  the  Republican  River-*— the  first  Methodists 
baptized  in  that  river  in  Nebraska. 

During  the  week  of  our  camp-meeting  a 
heavy  rainstorm  visited  the  camp,  saturating  the 
ground  to  such  a  degree  that  it  was  unfit  for 
use;  so  the  presiding  elder  and  I,  with  a  few 
of  the  brethren,  went  on  a  buffalo-hunt.  We 
hunted  all  day  without  seeing  any  game,  and 
came  home  tired  and  hungry,  as  hunters  usu- 
ally do.  But  the  elder  and  the  brethren  went 
out  the  second  time,  with  better  results.  After 
hunting  a  few  hours  in  the  morning,  they  came 
upon  their  game,  wounded  a  large  male  buffalo, 
and  chased  him  for  several  miles.  He  ran  until 
he  could  or  would  go  no  farther,  and  then 
seemed  determined  to  defend  himself.  Halting 
not  far  from  where  two  young  men  were  in 
camp,  he  unmistakably  showed  signs  of  fight. 
On  seeing  that  he  would  go  no  farther,  one  of 
the  young  men,  taking  his  gun,  walked  out  to- 
ward him.  As  he  was  approaching  the  beast, 
one  of  our  men  called  to  him  not  to  go  too 
close,  or  he  might  be  hurt.     Paying  no  atten- 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  201 

tion  to  the  warning,  he  went  on,  swearing  that 
he  would  kill  the  animal.  When  within  a  few 
rods  of  the  enraged  beast,  he  presented  his  gun 
for  firing;  but  the  buffalo  made  a  lunge  for  him, 
caught  and  crushed  him  to  the  ground,  and 
threw  him  five  or  six  feet  into  the  air.  As  he 
came  to  the  ground,  the  buffalo  prepared  for 
another  attack,  when  one  of  our  men  shot  the 
beast  through  the  heart,  killing  him  instantly. 
The  young  man  was  taken  to  his  camp.  Our 
men  dressed  the  buffalo,  and  returned  to  the 
camp-ground  with  enough  beef  to  supply  every 
person  there  for  more  than  a  week.  It  was  re- 
ported that  the  young  man  attacked  by  the  buf- 
falo died  the  day  after  being  wounded.  How 
carelessly  and  foolishly  some  men  will  rush 
into  the  jaws  of  death! 

Our  camp-meeting  closed  with  the  good  re- 
sults already  mentioned,  and  every  one  went 
home  greatly  benefited  by  having  attended. 
The  presiding  elder,  J.  B.  Maxfield,  and  a  family 
by  the  name  of  Hurlbert  came  to  this  camp- 
meeting  from  Fairbury,  nearly  eighty  miles  dis- 
tant, in  a  covered  wagon.  Thus  the  reader  can 
see  something  of  the  presiding  elder's  work  and 


202  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

what  he  passed  through  in  the  early  days  of 
Methodism  in  this  new  country.  Brother  Max- 
field's  district  extended  from  somewhere  east 
of  Beatrice  as  far  west  as  the  Nebraska  line,  a 
distance  of  more  than  three  hundred  miles, 
though  he  was  not  required  to  go  so  far  west; 
for  as  yet  much  of  the  country  was  unsettled. 

On  the  Red  Cloud  Circuit,  in  my  second 
year,  the  people  were  in  very  straitened  circum- 
stances, so  that  it  was  impossible  to  feed  and 
clothe  themselves  comfortably.  To  add  to  their 
misfortunes,  the  grasshoppers  came  upon  them 
by  the  millions,  and  destroyed  their  crops,  and 
they  were  compelled  to  bring  corn  and  flour 
to  feed  themselves  and  their  teams  seventy-five 
or  a  hundred  miles  on  wagons;  for  as  yet  there 
were  no  railroads  in  this  country.  I  well  re- 
member making  more  than  one  trip  of  the  kind 
to  get  feed  for  my  ponies.  Early  in  the  spring 
of  1872  a  good  brother  and  I  went  with  two 
teams  after  corn  for  our  horses.  When  we  left 
home,  there  was  a  great  deal  of  snow  on  the 
ground,  the  weather  was  cold,  and  the  ground 
frozen  hard.  After  loading  up  our  corn  and 
starting    for    home,    the    weather    grew    warm, 


A    FRONTIER    T,IFE  203 

melting  the  snow,  and  filling-  the  ravines  and 
creeks  with  running  water.  There  being  no 
bridges,  it  was  necessary  to  cross  the  streams 
by  fording.  One  day,  after  wading  through 
water  and  slush-snow  until  we  were  wet  from 
head  to  foot,  we  came  to  a  creek  that  was  swol- 
len so  full  that  we  dared  not  drive  our  teams 
into  it.  Here  we  were,  the  shades  of  night  fast 
approaching,  and  no  prospects  of  crossing  the 
stream.  Our  only  chance  seemed  to  be  to  wait 
for  the  stream  to  fall;  for  with  our  loads  it  was 
impossible  to  go  around  it  in  either  direction. 
At  length,  casting  our  eyes  far  up  the  stream, 
we  saw  a  house,  with  signs  of  life.  While  I  re- 
mained with  the  teams,  my  companion  went  in 
search  of  lodging  for  the  night.  In  a  short  time 
he  returned,  accompanied  by  another  man,  who 
helped  us  move  our  loads  to  his  house,  and  kept 
us  until  morning.  When  our  teams  were  cared 
for,  our  host  furnished  each  of  us  with  a  suit 
of  dry  clothes,  and  spared  no  pains  to  make  us 
comfortable.  So  long  as  I  retain  my  mind,  I 
shall  hold  that  dear  family  in  sweet  remem- 
brance. Though  I  have  forgotten  their  names, 
I  shall  not  forget  their  kindness.     They  were 


204  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

Danes,  and  lived  in  a  large  dug-out  in  the  bank 
of  the  creek  which  had  intercepted  our  journey. 
Though  living  in  the  ground,  I  never  saw  a  more 
orderly  and  neatly-kept  house  than  theirs.  Ev- 
erything was  as  neat  and  tidy  as  human  hands 
could  make  it,  and  they  seemed  to  enjoy  life 
as  well  as  if  they  had  lived  in  the  most  splendid 
palace.  The  following  night  we  were  at  home, 
with  corn  enough  to  feed  our  horses  for  several 
weeks. 

Think  of  the  wonderful  development  of  this 
country!  Only  a  few  years  ago  the  Methodist 
minister  of  that  place  traveled  a  hundred  miles 
to  obtain  horse-feed,  and  now,  from  the  same 
locality,  thousands  of  bushels  of  grain  are 
shipped  over  the  railroads  to  the  Eastern  mar- 
kets. 

When  the  welcome  warm  days  of  spring  ar- 
rived, they  brought  relief  to  many  families  who 
were  suffering  on  account  of  the  cold  weather, 
and  they  brought  great  relief  to  me  as  well. 
With  warm  weather,  the  buffalo  returned  to 
our  locality,  bringing  to  us  our  summer's  buf- 
falo-meat. One  day,  while  preparing  my  quar- 
terly report  to  the  Quarterly  Conference,  which 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  205 

was  to  convene  that  day  in  my  room,  buffaloes 
were  seen  crossing  the  valley  toward  Brother 
Burtice's  house,  which  was  not  far  from  Red 
Cloud,  and  where  I  was  then  making  my  home. 
Seeing  there  were  young  calves  with  them,  and 
neighboring  men  after  them  with  horses,  I  de- 
termined to  engage  in  the  wild  chase  once  more. 
Hastily  bridling  my  spirited  horse,  I  gave  a  tre- 
mendous leap,  intending  to  light  on  his  back, 
but  went  clear  over  the  horse  to  the  ground 
on  the  other  side.  If  the  reader  could  see  me 
now,  he  would  think  it  strange  that  I  could 
mount  a  horse  at  all;  but  people  will  change,  as 
well  as  places.  The  second  attempt  to  mount 
proved  more  successful,  and  I  rode  after  the 
frightened  buffaloes,  intending  to  head  them  off 
and  turn  them  from  their  course,  when  they  dis- 
appeared behind  a  hill.  Urging  on  my  horse 
still  faster,  hoping  to  overtake  and  turn  them, 
suddenly  I  met  them  coming  toward  me  at  full 
speed.  When  my  horse  saw  the  frightened  ani- 
mals, he  stopped,  sent  me  over  his  head  in  the 
direction  of  the  buffaloes,  then  wheeled  about, 
and  ran  home.  Finding  myself  on  the  ground, 
I  thought  I  was  badly  hurt,  but  soon  found  my 


206  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

feet,  and,  with  bridle  in  hand,  I  hurried  home, 
with  no  serious  injury  from  the  fall  and  no  fur- 
ther desire  for  chasing  buffaloes.  This  is  the 
only  accident  that  ever  happened  to  me  in 
chasing  the  buffalo,  and  it  was  the  last  chase  I 
ever  engaged  in. 

During  the  year  I  received  but  little  money; 
consequently  my  wardrobe  was  in  great  need  of 
replenishing.  The  last  white  shirt  was  gone, 
and  my  colored  ones  were  giving  out.  I  had  no 
money  to  purchase  the  needed  clothing,  and 
felt  sure  that  none  of  the  brethren  were  better 
off.  It  was  near  time  for  the  meeting  of  Con- 
ference, and  I  knew  not  which  way  to  turn. 
But  notwithstanding  my  embarrassing  circum- 
stances, the  work  was  continued  as  though  I 
had  all  the  necessaries  of  life,  both  in  meeting 
my  appointments  and  making  pastoral  calls.  On 
calling,  one  afternoon,  at  a  brother's  house,  I 
drove  into  the  yard,  and  found  one  of  his  neigh- 
bors talking  with  him.  As  I  entered  the  yard, 
the  neighbor  went  into  the  house,  and  asked  the 
lady  who  I  was,  and,  when  told,  sneaked  off 
home,  as  we  supposed,  to  hide.  He  soon  re- 
turned,   however,    and,    stepping    up    to    me, 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  207 

handed  me  a  five-dollar  bill,  saying:  "Here,  take 
this;  you  need  it  worse  than  I  do.  You  will 
make  better  use  of  it  than  I  can.  Besides,  I 
have  plenty  more."  It  seemed  that  he  was  the 
only  man  in  all  that  country  who  had  any  money, 
and  the  Lord  touched  his  heart  and  moved  him 
to  give  me  the  much-needed  funds.  With  these 
five  dollars  and  a  three-dollar  order  on  the  store 
from  one  of  the  brethren,  my  wardrobe  was  so 
far  replenished  that  I  could  go  to  Conference 
with  some  self-respect. 

I  must  not  leave  without  giving  the  reader 
a  pen  picture  of  a  heart-rending  sight  that  met 
my  eyes  while  on  this  charge.  At  that  time 
there  were  no  bridges  spanning  the  river,  and 
the  only  way  to  cross  with  a  team  was  by  ford- 
ing. One  day,  while  on  my  way  from  home  to 
town,  I  drove  down  into  the  edge  of  the  water, 
and  saw,  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  a  forlorn- 
looking  woman  in  a  covered  wagon,  without  a 
team.  I  called  and  asked  if  she  wished  to  be 
taken  to  the  shore.  She  answered :  "The  wagon 
is  fast  in  the  sand.  My  husband  has  gone  to 
town  for  help  to  take  it  out,  and  I  can't  leave; 
for  I  have  my  dead  baby  here  with  me."     It 


208  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

was  a  sad  sight,  that  mother,  alone  with  her 
dead  baby  in  the  middle  of  the  river!  As  soon 
as  the  citizens  learned  of  her  condition,  they 
came  and  helped  her  out,  and  sent  the  family 
on  their  journey.  I  have  often  thought  of  that 
sorrowful  scene,  and  wondered  what  became 
of  those  people,  but  never  heard  from  them 
again.  While  they  were  traveling  west,  their 
child  had.  died,  and  they  were  taking  it  to  their 
journey's  end  to  bury  it. 

During  this  Conference  year  I  made  an  ap- 
pointment on  White  Rock,  in  Kansas,  and 
preached  there  a  few  times.  One  evening,  on 
returning  home  from  the  appointment,  night 
overtook  me  before  I  was  half  way  across  the 
dividing  ridge  between  the  streams,  and  I  had 
to  find  my  way  in  the  dark.  As  there  were  no 
roads,  I  could  only  find  my  way  by  the  stars 
and  by  following  the  ridges,  which  I  knew 
pointed  toward  the  river  where  I  made  my 
home.  As  I  was  moving  through  the  night  on 
this  fifteen-mile  trip  home,  I  routed  a  number 
of  buffaloes  from  their  sleeping-places,  and  they 
leaped  down  the  hills  with  a  crash  as  they  dis- 
appeared in  the  darkness. 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  200, 

Among  other  things  to  pester  and  annoy  us 
in  this  new  country,  the  Indians  gave  us  no  little 
trouble.  Though  they  were  not  hostile,  their 
continual  begging  tired  the  patience  of  the  set- 
tlers. A  number  of  Indian  warriors  came  to 
Brother  Penny's  house  in  his  absence,  and  de- 
manded of  Sister  Penny  something  to  eat,  and  if 
I  had  not  been  there,  in  all  probability  they 
would  have  compelled  her  to  feed  them.  I  am 
sick  and  tired  of  Indians  and  Indian  stories,  but 
am  not  altogether  done  with  them  yet. 

Another  year's  work  is  completed,  and  I  go 
to  Conference  to  make  my  second  year's  report. 
But  before  leaving  let  me  give  my  experience 
with  a  doctor  and  his  wife.  Ministers  are  often 
called  to  visit  the  sick  and  pray  with  the  dying. 
Some  time  during  my  pastorate  on  this  circuit 
one  of  our  doctors  was  taken  seriously  ill,  and 
thought  he  was  going  to  die.  As  he  was  not  a 
Christian,  like  many  others  at  such  a  time  he 
was  very  anxious  that  the  preacher  should  come 
and  pray  for  him,  so  I  was  called.  Reaching  his 
house  quite  late  in  the  afternoon,  conversation 
was  continued  until  nearly  dark,  when  it  was 
suggested  that  we  have  prayers.  He  said  he  was 
14 


2IO  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

glad  I  had  come,  and  wanted  me  to  pray  for 
him.  As  the  wife  was  not  expected  to  die  just 
at  this  time,  she  wanted  no  praying  in  the  house. 
Though  she  said  nothing,  I  could  see  that  she 
was  not  at  all  in  a  praying  mood.  Kneeling  by 
the  bedside  of  the  sick  man,  however,  I  offered 
a  hearty  prayer  in  his  behalf.  While  I  was  thus 
praying  for  the  husband,  the  wife  went  about  the 
house  attending  to  her  work,  and  making  every- 
thing she  came  in  contact  with  move  with  a 
bang.  Paying  no  more  attention  to  her  than 
she  did  to  me,  the  prayer  was  finished,  and  the 
doctor  and  I  began  talking  of  the  salvation  of 
his  soul.  He  promised  me  and  the  Lord  that,  if 
he  recovered,  he  would  work  for  the  glory  of 
God  the  rest  of  his  days.  The  prayers  were  an- 
swered, the  man  got  well,  but,  like  thousands 
of  others,  lied  to  the  Lord,  and  went  back  to 
serving  the  devil. 

In  visiting  the  sick  and  making  pastoral  calls 
from  house  to  house  in  a  new  country,  a  min- 
ister meets  with  heart-rending  scenes  as  well  as 
amusing  incidents.  In  my  pastoral  calls,  I  have 
often  visited  families  who  were  fearfully  destitute 
of  both  food  and  clothing.    One  day,  while  about 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  211 

to  call  for  the  first  time  on  a  family,  not  far  from 
the  house  I  noticed  a  woman  near  the  roadside 
sitting  in  the  grass.  Driving  on  to  the  house, 
I  was  well  received  by  the  husband,  but  the  wife 
was  not  present.  My  coming  appeared  to  cause 
considerable  confusion,  and  I  saw  one  of  the 
family  slip  out  with  an  old  dress.  Soon  after, 
the  woman  I  had  seen  sitting  in  the  grass  came 
in,  wearing  the  garment  I  had  noticed.  The 
poor  woman  was  saving  her  only  and  well-worn 
dress  to  wear  when  some  one  should  call;  but 
this  time  she  was  caught  away  from  the  house 
without  clothing  enough  to  hide  her  nakedness. 
O,  how  my  heart  aches  for  such  destitute  people ! 

Before  leaving  this  place  entirely,  let  me  call 
the  reader's  attention  to  a  few  places  which  I 
visited  as  a  preacher  outside  of  my  regular  work. 
In  the  summer  of  1872  I  went  to  the  Little  Blue 
River,  and  held  meetings  there.  I  remember 
preaching  in  a  little  schoolhouse  a  few  miles  west 
of  where  the  little  town  of  Oak  now  stands.  I 
suppose  it  was  the  first  sermon  ever  preached  in 
that  community.  A  minister  was  a  novelty  in 
that  country. 

During  the  same  summer  I  preached  in  a 


212  A   FRONTIER    LIFE 

grove  by  the  side  of  the  wagon-road  at  what  was 
then  Oak  Grove  Ranch.  The  people  seemed 
to  be  glad  of  the  privilege  of  hearing  the  gospel, 
and  really  appreciated  the  services,  though  they 
were  conducted  out  of  doors.  Here,  along  the 
Little  Blue  Valley,  I  preached  in  private  houses, 
schoolhouses,  and  in  the  groves.  I  afterward 
traveled  as  pastor  over  that  same  ground  for  a 
number  of  years.  Now,  besides  schoolhouses, 
they  have  churches  and  towns. 

In  the  spring  of  1873,  leaving  my  charge,  I 
made  a  trip  to  the  Big  Sandy  Creek,  in  Clay 
County.  While  on  that  trip  I  held  services  in 
"Uncle  John  Graham's"  house,  which  is  some- 
where near  the  town  of  Edgar.  From  that  place 
I  went  over  to  a  branch  of  the  Big  Sandy,  in  the 
Paschal,  Thurber,  and  Stacy  neighborhood. 
Here  a  local  preacher,  F.  E.  Penny,  was  engaged 
in  a  revival-meeting  in  a  dug-out  schoolhouse, 
which  afterward  gave  way  to  a  nice  little  frame 
schoolhouse,  called  "The  Star  Schoolhouse." 
In  this  dug-out,  on  the  third  day  of  November, 
1872,  F.  E.  Penny  organized  the  first  Methodist 
class  in  Clay  County;  and  in  this  same  dug-out 
I  first  met  Miss  Mary  Stacy,  who  is  now  my 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  213 

wife.  Our  life  together  thus  far  has  been  a  con- 
stant pull,  but  we  have  pulled  together;  and  now 
our  journey  is  almost  ended,  and  our  life-work 
nearly  done.  This  dug-out  schoolhouse  was 
located  one  mile  south  and  about  three-fourths 
of  a  mile  west  of  the  town  of  Ong,  our  present 
home  and  parish.  Some  of  the  charter  members 
of  that  first  class  are  now  members  in  Ong.  In 
fact,  this  class  at  Ong  is  the  "Star"  class,  for- 
merly mentioned,  and  hence  the  oldest  Meth- 
odist class  in  Clay  County.  In  that  same  dug- 
out schoolhouse  Mrs.  Wells  (Stacy)  taught  the 
district  school  for  three  months.  She  reports 
having  a  good  time,  when  there  was  neither  rain 
nor  snakes.  In  rainy  weather  the  water  leaked 
through  the  roof,  and  the  earthen  floor  became  so 
muddy  that  it  was  necessary  to  lay  down  boards 
in  the  house  to  keep  the  children  out  of  the  mud. 
One  day  the  scholars  saw  a  rain-cloud  coming, 
and,  thinking  it  might  hail,  they  took  the  teach- 
er's pony  into  the  schoolhouse  to  shelter  it  from 
the  hailstorm.  The  roof  was  neither  rain-proof 
nor  snake-proof.  One  day,  while  a  class  of  little 
children  were  standing  in  a  line  reciting  their 
lesson,  a  snake  came  down  through  the  roof  over 


214  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

their  heads,  causing  them  to  disband  in  double- 
quick  time.  After  the  class  had  scattered,  the 
snake  dropped  down  on  the  floor  near  where 
they  had  been  standing.  It  had  hardly  reached 
the  floor  when  about  a  half  dozen  boys  went 
after  it  with  missiles  of  death.  With  a  broken 
back  and  a  "bruised  head,"  Mr.  Snake  was  ex- 
pelled from  the  school. 


CHAPTER    IX 

Off  to  Conference  again— The  Great  April  Snowstorm — 
Appointment  to  the  Lyons  Circuit— My  Trip  to  the 
Charge— My  Second  Marriage— Work  on  the  Charge. 

The  day  I  left  home  for  the  seat  of  Confer- 
ence was  warm,  calm,  and  beautiful.  The  grass 
coated  the  prairie  with  summer's  most  lovely 
green,  presenting  a  sight  that  was  delightful  to 
behold.  The  grain  showed  life,  giving  promise 
of  an  unusually  early  harvest.  The  gardens  in- 
dicated early  supplies  to  the  toiler.  All  nature 
seemed  to  smile  because  of  the  absence  of  winter 
and  the  early  appearance  of  summer.  While  na- 
ture thus  gloried  in  its  beauty  and  fragrance, 
the  people  supposed  the  snows  of  winter  were 
gone,  and  that  summer  had  come  to  stay.  On 
the  thirteenth  of  April,  1873,  while  I  was  on  the 
road  to  Conference,  the  clouds  gathered  thick 
and  fast,  and  it  began  to  rain,  and  so  continued 
until  some  time  in  the  night,  when  snow  ap- 
proached from  the  northwest.  In  the  morning 
of  the  fourteenth  the  snow  came  quite  thickly 
215 


2l6  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

from    that    direction,    and    continued    to    come 
thicker  and  faster,  until  one  of  the  most  terrific 
snowstorms  ever  known  in  that  part  of  the  world 
swept  down  in  wild  fury.     The  wind  blew  at  a 
fearful  rate,  the  snow  whirled  and  fled  in  every 
direction,  and  neither  man  nor  beast  could  face  it. 
Horses,  cattle,  hogs,  and  sheep  by  the  hundreds 
perished  in  this  dreadful  storm.     A  man  living 
near   Red   Cloud,   while  driving  toward   home, 
was  overtaken  by  the  storm,  and  though  only 
three   miles   away,   it   was   impossible   to   reach 
his  destination  through  the  blinding  snow.     On 
attempting  to  drive,  facing  the  storm,  he  dis- 
covered that  his  horses  were  being  smothered 
by  the  snow  beating  into  and  filling  their  nos- 
trils, and  every  few  rods  he  was  forced  to  stop 
and  relieve  them.     After  a  vigorous   effort  to 
reach  his  family,  he  gave  it  up,  and  stopped  at  a 
neighbor's    house    close    by.      The    storm    con- 
tinued to  rage  so  angrily  that  the  wife  became 
alarmed  about   her   husband,   thinking  that   he 
must  be  perishing  in  the  dreadful  tempest.     In 
her  excitement  she  wrapped  her  babe  snugly  and 
warmly  in  blankets,  took  it  in  her  arms,  and,  as 
was  supposed,  went  in  search  of  her  husband. 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  217 

The  husband,  thinking  all  was  well  at  home,  re- 
mained with  his  neighbor  until  the  following 
morning,  and  when  the  storm  had  somewhat 
abated,  passed  on  his  way  home.  Reaching 
there,  he  found  his  wife  and  child  were  gone, 
leaving  no  signs  of  their  whereabouts.  Be- 
lieving they  might  have  gone  to  a  neighbor's, 
he  went  to  several  houses,  but  discovered  no 
traces  of  them  anywhere.  The  neighbors  then 
turned  out,  and  searched  the  snow-drifts,  and 
finally  found  the  wife  not  more  than  forty  rods 
from  her  own  dooryard,  frozen  to  death,  and  her 
frozen  babe  snugly  wrapped  in  its  blankets  and 
pressed  to  her  bosom.  While  out  in  search  of 
her  husband  in  the  fierce  storm,  the  winds  had 
doubtless  blown  her  to  the  ground;  she  was  un- 
able to  rise,  and  soon  perished  in  the  drifting 
snow. 

The  storm  beat  into  the  houses  until,  in  many 
of  them,  the  floors  and  beds  were  completely 
covered  with  snow,  and  in  some  places  the  in- 
habitants nearly  perished  in  their  beds.  One 
man  whom  I  knew  in  Clay  County,  had  but  lately 
built  and  moved  into  a  new  house  while  the  roof 
was  yet  unfinished.     The  storm  found  him  in 


2l8  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

this  condition,  and  blew  the  snow-drifts  into  his 
house  and  upon  his  beds  so  profusely  that  he  and 
his  family  were  chilled,  and  gave  themselves  up 
to  die.  When  the  storm  had  spent  the  greater 
part  of  its  strength,  with  great  difficulty  a  near 
neighbor  succeeded  in  reaching  them  and  saving 
their  lives. 

A  Mr.  D.,  who  had  recently  come  from  the 
East  and  built  a  comfortable  house  for  his  fam- 
ily, had  an  amusing  experience  during  that  won- 
derful storm.  His  house  was  so  far  completed 
that  it  was  habitable,  but  he  had  no  shelter  for 
his  team  of  oxen.  When  the  storm  beat  upon 
them,  threatening  them  with  death,  he  moved 
them  to  the  south  side  of  the  house  to  protect 
them  from  the  piercing  winds  from  the  north. 
Leaving  them  there  a  short  time,  he  saw  that 
they  were  likely  to  freeze  to  death  before  the 
next  morning,  if  not  sheltered  in  some  better 
way;  so  he  took  them  into  his  house,  and  kept 
them  there  until  the  next  day,  when  the  fury  of 
the  storm  had  passed. 

Many  people  perished  in  the  storm  not  far 
from  their  own  houses.  Others  lost  the  way 
while  attempting  to  go  to  the  barn  to  feed  their 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  219 

stock.  Some  did  not  reach  their  barns  for  two 
days,  and  others  only  succeeded  in  finding  them 
by  tying  one  end  of  a  rope  to  the  house  and  the 
other  end  to  the  barn.  By  following  the  rope  to 
and  fro  they  were  enabled  to  care  for  their  stock 
without  getting  lost  in  the  snow.  Mr.  David 
Thompson,  one  of  Clay  County's  earliest  settlers, 
was  compelled  to  shelter  cows,  pig,  dog,  and 
chickens  in  the  house  with  his  family,  to  keep 
them  from  perishing.  .  Four  head  of  cattle,  one 
hog,  one  dog,  all  his  chickens,  and  eight  persons 
occupied  the  same  room.  Notwithstanding  this 
storm  occurred  on  Easter  Sunday,  the  thirteenth 
of  April,  it  was  the  most  severe  and  destructive 
that  the  oldest  settlers  of  this  country  had  ever 
known. 

Many  of  the  people  lived  in  dug-outs  that 
were  completely  covered  with  snow,  and  the  resi- 
dents were  compelled  to  dig  their  way  out  to 
keep  from  suffocating.  On  the  evening  of  the 
third  day  the  storm-cloud  broke,  and  the  sun 
appeared  in  the  sky.  In  a  few  days  the  snow  had 
disappeared,  and  nature  put  on  its  most  beautiful 
robe  and  smiled  as  before.  How  welcome  the 
bright  sunshine  after  a  long  and  severe  storm! 


220  A    FRONTIER    LIFE 

So  delightfully  beautiful  will  be  the  home  of  the 
soul  after  the  storm  of  life  is  over,  and  we  rest 
in  the  quiet  sunshine  of  God's  love ! 

When  the  storm  had  passed  away,  I  resumed 
my  journey  to  the  seat  of  Conference.  Driving 
as  far  as  Beatrice,  more  than  half  the  distance, 
I  there  borrowed  money  of  my  mother  to  take 
me  the  rest  of  the  way  on  the  cars.  This  year 
I  reported  $132  on  salary  and  a  goodly  increase 
of  membership  on  the  charge.  The  brethren  re- 
quested the  presiding  elder  to  return  me  to  the 
Red  Cloud  Circuit;  but  he  told  them  that  I  had 
seen  enough  hardship,  and  he  should  remove 
me,  and  let  some  one  else  try  that  new  field 
awhile.  At  this  Conference,  held  at  Platts- 
mouth,  in  the  spring  of  1873,  I  was  admitted 
into  full  connection,  and  on  the  20th  day  of 
April,  was  ordained  deacon  by  Bishop  E.  G. 
Andrews.  When  the  appointments  were  an- 
nounced, I  was  assigned  to  Lyons  Circuit,  in 
Burt  County,  near  the  Missouri  River.  A  long 
journey  was  now  before  me.  I  must  first  return 
to  Red  Cloud,  my  old  field  of  labor,  and  go  from 
thence  to  my  newly-appointed  field,  more  than  a 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  221 

hundred  and  fifty  miles  distant,  making  in  all 
more  than  four  hundred  and  fifty  miles'  travel 
from  the  time  of  starting  to  Conference  until 
reaching  my  new  charge,  and  most  of  this  dis- 
tance with  my  ponies.  Returning  to  Red  Cloud, 
my  few  effects  were  loaded  in  my  light  buggy, 
and  I  again  took  the  road,  plodding  through  the 
mud  and  rain  toward  my  new  home.  At  this 
time  the  Republican  River  was  high  and  running 
rapidly,  yet  I  must  cross;  so  in  I  went,  the  ponies 
almost  swimming.  The  water  was  so  deep  that 
it  came  up  into  the  buggy,  and  wet  some  of  my 
books.  I  afterward  learned  that  one  of  the 
brethren  said,  "No  difference  how  high  the  river 
is,  Brother  Wells  will  cross  if  he  has  to  take  a 
pony  under  each  arm  and  swim  over."  I  crossed, 
however,  without  attempting  the  feat.  This 
journey  of  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
was  to  me  a  long  and  difficult  one.  A  cold,  driz- 
zling rain  fell  from  the  north,  keeping  me  wet 
much  of  the  time;  the  roads  were  rough  and 
muddy  all  the  way,  and  the  trip  was  altogether 
a  very  unpleasant  one.  After  a  few  days  of  such 
wading  through  the  mud  and  traveling  in  the 


222  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

rain,  I  reached  my  charge,  and  found  a  boarding- 
place  with  a  Brother  Randall,  near  the  par- 
sonage. 

Lyons  was  a  large  country  circuit,  with  four 
appointments  and  room  for  as  many  more.  The 
parsonage  was  some  ten  miles  from  any  town, 
and  there  was  no  Methodist  Episcopal  church 
building  on  the  entire  charge.  But  there  were 
frame  schoolhouses  that  admitted  preaching, 
which  was  quite  a  treat  to  me,  and  at  one  point 
we  occupied  the  Presbyterian  church  part  of  the 
time.  It  was  the  first  church  building  of  any 
kind  in  which  I  held  divine  service  since  entering 
the  regular  ministry. 

Though  this  was  a  large  and  unwieldy  cir- 
cuit, it  was  far  better  than  working  in  the  ex- 
treme frontier  settlements.  The  country  had 
been  settled  for  several  years,  and  there  was  con- 
siderable wealth  among  the  farmers,  which  en- 
abled them  to  give  a  minister  a  good  support. 
The  circuit  had  been  organized  some  four  or  five 
years,  and  was  quite  prosperous.  I  now  felt  my 
weakness  more  forcibly  than  at  any  time  since 
entering  the  ministry.  Here  I  was  required  to 
preach  to  lawyers,  doctors,  school  teachers,  and 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  223 

preachers,  all  of  whom  had  better  early  advan- 
tages in  the  line  of  education  than  myself.  This 
had  a  tendency  to  provoke  me  to  a  more  diligent 
study  of  the  common  English  branches,  while 
at  the  same  time  pursuing  my  Conference 
course.  But  few  can  realize  the  amount  of  work 
I  had  to  do  on  so  large  a  circuit,  probably  more 
than  any  other  young  man  in  the  Conference. 
Besides  my  Conference  studies,  which  I  felt  must 
be  kept  up,  I  was  still  pursuing  some  of  the  com- 
mon branches  of  learning,  making  double  work 
in  the  line  of  study.  On  the  Lyons  Circuit  I 
had  what  I  then  thought  to  be  a  good  and  easy 
time,  though  there  was  a  great  deal  of  frontier 
work  to  be  done  on  the  charge.  Some  days  I 
traveled  forty  miles,  and  preached  three  times 
during  the  day,  eating  nothing  from  early  morn- 
ing until  ten  o'clock  at  night.  Only  a  person 
with  an  iron  constitution  can  endure  such  wear 
and  tear  as  this  and  last  long. 

During  one  of  my  rounds  on  this  charge  I 
preached  at  an  evening  appointment  in  the  dark. 
Our  meetings  at  this  point  were  held  in  a  coun- 
try schoolhouse,  where  the  brethren  depended 
on  carrying  lamps  from  home  to  light  the  house. 


224  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

What  is  everybody's  business  is  nobody's  busi- 
ness; consequently  each  came  to  the  meeting 
depending  on  the  others  to  provide  the  necessary 
light,  and  darkness  was  the  result.  Having  con- 
gregated for  services,  I  determined  not  to  dis- 
appoint the  people — for  I  had  driven  some  fif- 
teen miles  to  preach  to  them,  and  would  not  be 
at  the  place  again  for  two  weeks — so  I  preached 
without  seeing  my  audience.  Perhaps  I  would 
make  a  better  impression  on  the  minds  of  my 
hearers  if  I  should  always  preach  to  them  in  the 
dark,  especially  when  my  coat  is  as  seedy  as 
sometimes  happened. 

On  the  charge  I  found  Methodist  people  of 
considerable  means  and  influence,  which  was  a 
great  help  to  me  in  my  work.  Among  these 
was  Uncle  David  Clark,  a  wealthy  farmer,  a 
lover  of  Methodism,  and  a  warm  friend  of  the 
preacher,  in  whose  house  the  itinerant  always 
found  a  welcome.  Brother  Yeaton  was  a  well- 
to-do  farmer,  not  far  from  the  little  town  of 
Lyons,  from  which  the  circuit  took  its  name. 
He,  too,  was  a  stanch  Methodist,  and  always 
had  a  home  for  the  preacher.  At  Brother 
Yeaton's  house  I  had  an  unpleasant  experience 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  225 

with  an  Indian,  who  called  for  dinner  for  him- 
self and  squaw,  promising  fifty  cents  for  the  two. 
Brother  Yeaton  was  not  at  home,  and  the  In- 
dian seemed  to  think  he  could  do  as  he  pleased 
with  Sister  Yeaton  in  regard  to  the  dinner. 
After  the  two  had  eaten  their  fill,  they  began 
to  gather  up  the  food  that  remained,  and  to  put 
it  in  their  blankets  to  carry  away  to  their  camp. 
As  Sister  Yeaton  was  somewhat  frightened,  and 
knew  not  what  to  do,  I  stopped  them  from  tak- 
ing the  food,  and  told  them  they  should  pay  her 
for  what  they  had  put  in  their  blankets.  This 
they  at  first  refused  to  do,  saying  that  their 
papooses  at  the  camp  were  hungry,  and  must 
have  something  to  eat.  Seeing  they  were  deter- 
mined not  to  pay  her  at  all,  I  snatched  a  toma- 
hawk lying  beside  the  plate  of  the  buck  Indian, 
and  said  to  him,  "I  shall  keep  this  until  you  pay 
the  woman  for  what  you  have  eaten  and  taken 
from  the  table;"  for  they  had  put  more  in  their 
blankets  than  they  had  eaten.  Having  no  de- 
sire to  part  with  his  highly-prized  tomahawk, 
he  reluctantly  paid  all  I  asked,  and  departed. 
There  is  little  or  no  use  trying  to  reason  with 
Indians  of  this  kind;  they  will  only  do  that  which 
15 


226  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

is  right  when  compelled.  If  this  Indian  had  not 
been  interfered  with,  he  would  have  taken  all  the 
food  from  the  table,  and  left  without  paying  the 
woman  a  cent. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  pass  by  without  men- 
tioning Brother  and  Sister  Shaw,  who  lived  near 
Lyons  on  this  charge.  No  one  took  more  pains 
to  make  the  preacher  and  his  family  feel  at  home 
than  they.  Their  home  was  a  resting-place  for 
ministers  of  all  denominations  who  might  chance 
to  call  for  a  night's  lodging.  To  me  it  was  a 
pleasant  place.  In  my  lonely  hours  I  often  re- 
sorted to  this  home,  and  found  relief  from  lone- 
liness and  sorrow. 

On  leaving,  I  thought  I  should  never  find 
any  people  who  would  take  as  much  interest  in 
a  preacher's  welfare  as  some  of  the  brethren  on 
this  charge.  But  wherever  I  went,  I  found 
others  just  as  good  and  as  thoughtful  of  the 
minister.  Brother  and  Sister  Randall,  with 
whom  I  boarded  during  the  first  few  months  on 
this  charge,  were  kind,  genial,  accommodating, 
and  made  a  pleasant  home  for  me  while  with 
them.  Should  their  eyes  chance  to  fall  upon 
these  lines,  they  may  know  that  their  kindness 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  227 

has  never  been  forgotten.  The  Lord  bless  those 
who  have  been  kind  to  the  itinerant  and  his 
family ! 

When  I  came  to  this  charge,  I  was  still  a 
widower,  far  away  from  all  my  folks,  and  even 
deprived  of  the  much-desired  companionship  of 
my  little  child,  which  was  still  with  her  grand- 
mother, near  Beatrice.  About  three  months 
after  first  reaching  this  charge  I  returned  to 
Fairbury,  Jefferson  County,  and,  according  to 
previous  arrangement,  married  Miss  Mary  Stacy, 
who  was  born  in  Ashtabula  County,  Ohio,  and 
was  raised  in  Ashtabula  and  Lake  Counties. 
You  may  remember  I  first  met  her  in  a  dug-out 
schoolhouse,  in  which  I  preached  while  helping 
a  local  minister  in  a  series  of  meetings,  and 
where  she  afterward  taught  school.  After  our 
marriage,  we  took  our  little  daughter  home  to 
live  with  us.  Up  to  this  writing,  we  have  lived 
together,  and  thus  far  our  union  has  been  a 
happy  one.  Mrs.  Wells  has  proved  worthy  of 
the  respect  of  the  Church,  which  she  has  faith- 
fully served,  and  has  been  a  great  help  to  me  in 
my  work.  She  has  borne  to  me  four  children, 
and  has  been  a  good  mother  as  well  as  a  faithful 


228  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

wife.  Uncomplainingly  she  has  accepted  the 
hardships  and  burdens  of  an  itinerant's  life. 
Though  pressed  with  want  in  food  and  clothing, 
and  pinched  with  cold  because  of  poor  houses 
and  lack  of  fuel,  she  has  been  the  last  to  com- 
plain of  her  hard  lot.  There  are  but  few  who 
realize  the  trials  of  the  itinerant's  wife,  especially 
of  those  on  new  and  large  fields  when  the  supply 
is  scarcely  enough  to  keep  the  family  from  want. 
Besides  all  this,  she,  like  the  minister,  is  un- 
mercifully criticised  and  expected  to  be  perfect 
in  looks  and  manners.  The  year  we  were  sent 
to  the  Lyons  Charge,  the  Conference  time  of 
meeting  was  changed  from  spring  to  fall,  making 
the  Conference  year  eighteen  months.  During 
those  eighteen  months  we  had  seasons  of  rejoic- 
ing, interspersed  with  seasons  of  sorrow  and  dis- 
appointment. The  long  Conference  year  gave 
me  more  time  to  prepare  for  examination  in  the 
Conference  Course  of  Study,  and  went  far 
toward  helping  me  through.  We  lived  at  the 
time  in  an  unfinished  parsonage,  a  small  house 
in  the  country,  and  here  the  Lord  blessed  our 
home  with  a  little  boy,  which  increased  our  cares 
as  well  as  our  joys. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  229 

Before  we  came  to  this  charge  the  Seventh- 
day  Adventists  had  been  here  and  led  away  some 
of  our  members,  injuring  the  religious  element 
in  the  community,  as  they  always  do  where  they 
get  foothold  enough  to  induce  people  to  follow 
them.  Our  members  who  were  led  away  by 
their  influence,  finally  fell  into  sinful  ways,  ob- 
serving neither  Saturday  nor  Sunday;  for  the 
natural  tendency  of  such  teaching  is  to  cause 
people  to  violate  the  laws  of  God  and  the  coun- 
try at  the  same  time.  When  the  laws  of  a  coun- 
try which  do  not  conflict  with  the  laws  of  God 
are  openly  violated,  the  laws  of  God  are  also  vio- 
lated; for  the  laws  of  God  would  have  us  obey 
the  laws  of  our  country. 

Conference  is  again  at  hand,  and  we  go  to 
Omaha  to  report  our  charge.  It  is  now  the  fall 
of  1874,  the  long  Conference  year  is  ended,  and, 
with  others,  I  go  to  the  sitting  to  attend  to  press- 
ing duties  there.  This  year  my  report  shows 
eighty  members  in  full  connection  and  $400  on 
salary,  making  about  $266  per  calendar  year  for 
the  support  of  my  family.  But  being  used  to 
this,  I  was  not  at  all  frightened.  For  three  rea- 
sons I  expected  to  return  to  Lyons  Charge  an- 


230  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

other  year.  First,  because  the  leading  members 
asked  for  my  return ;  second,  because  the  presid- 
ing elder  told  them  I  should  be  returned;  and, 
thirdly,  because  neither  Mrs.  Wells  nor  the  babe 
was  well  enough  to  be  removed.  Thus  we  fully 
expected  to  spend  another  year  here;  but  when 
the  appointments  were  announced,  I  was  as- 
signed to  Norfolk,  Madison  County,  nearly  a 
hundred  miles  west.  Though  I  had  given  myself 
wholly  into  the  hands  of  the  appointing  powers 
of  the  Conference,  to  do  with  me  as  they  thought 
best,  yet  I  was  grieved;  for  I  felt  sure  that  if  the 
bishop  knew  of  my  circumstances  he  would  not 
remove  me.  This  is  the  only  time  in  all  my  min- 
istry, thus  far,  that  I  felt  aggrieved  on  being  re- 
moved to  a  new  charge;  but  perhaps  it  was  the 
best  for  us,  after  all.  Knowing  that  we  were 
removed  to  make  room  for  a  preacher  who  did 
not  wish  to  go  farther  west,  or,  in  other  words, 
who  would  not  go  to  the  circuit  to  which  I  was 
assigned,  I  had  reason  to  be  grieved,  I  think. 
This  man,  however,  was  not  a  member  of  our 
Conference,  but  was  on  trial  in  some  other  Con- 
ference, and  came  here  to  find  a  soft  job.     Fail- 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  231 

ing  to  find  it,  in  a  short  time  he  left  his  work  and 
went  home. 

Before  leaving,  I  must  notice  some  things  of 
interest  to  me,  if  not  to  the  reader.  While  here 
I  married  my  first  couple.  We  were  pretty 
closely  run  for  money  at  times,  and  our  ward- 
robes would  become  quite  worn  before  we  could 
replenish  them.  At  one  time  our  little  girl  was 
needing  a  new  pair  of  shoes,  and  we  had  not  the 
means  to  purchase  them.  On  Sunday,  just  at 
this  crisis,  as  I  was  going  to  my  appointment,  a 
gentleman  met  me  on  the  way,  and  requested 
me  to  marry  a  couple  in  the  country  not  far  from 
the  place  of  my  appointment.  The  invitation 
was  gladly  accepted,  and  I  was  soon  at  the  house 
where  the  wedding  was  to  occur.  But  what 
could  I  do?  I  neither  knew  a  ceremony  nor  had 
a  Discipline  with  me.  However,  the  difficulty 
was  fortunately  overcome.  I  found  a  copy  of 
the  Statutes  of  Nebraska  containing  a  form 
which  I  appropriated,  and  the  wedding  passed 
off  all  right.  It  was  a  lucky  discovery  for  me; 
for  the  bridegroom  gave  me  ten  dollars  for  my 
services. 


232  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

Some  of  the  weddings  on  this  charge  failed 
to  be  so  profitable.  A  very  richly-dressed  young 
man  and  woman  came  to  the  parsonage  to  be 
married.  From  their  appearance,  I  thought  I 
would  be  rewarded  with  a  liberal  fee,  which  I 
promised  Mrs.  Wells  for  her  own  spending 
money.  After  the  ceremony,  the  bridegroom 
called  me  into  the  kitchen,  and  informed  me  that 
he  was  hard  run  for  money,  and  I  would  have 
to  wait  on  him  a  few  days,  to  which  I  replied, 
"All  right."  I  do  n't  know  just  how  many  days 
he  calls  a  "few,"  though  it  must  be  what  we  call 
many,  for  I  have  seen  nothing  of  the  wedding 
fee  yet. 

I  not  only  had  much  amusement  in  regard  to 
marriage  fees  while  on  this  charge,  but  some 
really  laughable  things  in  regard  to  my  salary. 
One  of  the  stewards  came  to  me  one  day  and 
said,  "If  you  will  show  me  the  way  around  the 
charge,  and  introduce  me  to  our  Church  people, 
I  will  spend  a  whole  day  in  trying  to  collect  your 
salary."  Early  in  the  morning  we  started  on  a 
collecting  tour.  The  first  house  at  which  we 
called  was  that  of  a  poor  widow,  who  gave  the 
steward  three  dollars,  which,  no  doubt,  was  a 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  233 

great  sacrifice.  The  next  call  was  on  a  brother 
who  was  pretty  well-to-do,  and  he  gave  some- 
thing, but  I  have  forgotten  how  much.  The 
next  call  was  at  the  house  of  a  wealthy  farmer, 
where  we  put  up  for  dinner.  Here  the  steward 
thought  he  would  get  a  good  sum,  as  the  man 
seemed  very  religious  and  willing  to  do  some- 
thing to  help  the  Church.  After  dinner,  and  en- 
joying a  social  chat,  the  steward  told  the  good 
brother  his  mission,  to  which  he  replied,  "Yes, 
we  must  do  something  for  Brother  Wells,"  at 
the  same  time  feeling  in  his  pocket  for  the  neces- 
sary means.  Finding  nothing  suitable,  he  said 
to  his  wife,  "Look  in  my  pants  pocket  hanging 
up  there."  After  carefully  searching  his  pockets, 
she  said,  "There  's  nothing  less  than  a  twenty- 
dollar  bill  here."  He  then  told  her  to  look  in 
the  boy's  pockets.  She  had  been  gone  but  a 
short  time  when  she  called  out,  "Here  is  ten 
cents."  He  replied,  "Well,  bring  that  along; 
it 's  better  than  nothing,  and  we  will  try  and  do 
something  more  for  Brother  Wells  another 
time."  You  may  be  sure  we  got  more  fun  out 
of  the  ten  cents  than  a  sportsman  can  get  out 
of  a  hundred  dollars.     To  the  reader  this  story 


234  A  FRONTIER  LIFE 

may  seem  almost  incredible;  but  it  is  a  positive 
fact,  and  the  steward  would  swear  to  it  if  called 
upon  to  do  so.  Though  this  man  was  well-to-do 
in  this  world's  goods,  he  could  hardly  read  and 
write  his  own  name,  which  partially  accounts, 
no  doubt,  for  the  ten  cents  he  gave  toward  his 
preacher's  salary.  What  poor,  ignorant  mor- 
tals there  are,  even  in  our  own  enlightened  land ! 
On  this  charge  it  was  difficult  to  get  fuel  to 
keep  ourselves  warm  in  cold  weather.  Without 
the  means  to  buy  coal,  we  burned  wood,  which 
I  drew  from  the  Missouri  River,  about  thirteen 
miles  away.  Having  no  team  heavy  enough  to 
draw  wood  so  far,  I  borrowed  one  of  a  brother, 
and  drew  wood  on  shares,  giving  him  half  for 
the  use  of  his  team.  The  fuel  thus  obtained  was 
driftwood,  found  along  the  banks  of  the  river 
and  on  sand-bars.  Some  of  it  was  dry  and  good 
for  fuel,  but  much  of  it  was  wet,  soggy  stuff,  that 
would  hardly  burn  at  all.  Perhaps  if  I  had  not 
been  so  independent  and  had  been  less  modest 
in  asking  the  brethren  to  help  me,  I  might  have 
avoided  the  extra  work  in  drawing  wood  so  far; 
but  it  has  always  been  my  disposition  to  help 
myself  rather  than  call  upon  others;  and,  as  the 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  235 

brethren  complained  of  hard  times,  I  did  what 
I  could  in  such  manual  labor,  and  still  carried 
on  the  circuit  and  my  studies.  I  have  always 
been  timid  about  demanding  my  salary;  and,  if 
I  could,  would  far  rather  earn  my  living  with  my 
hands  than  ask  the  brethren  for  a  dollar.  It  is 
always  embarrassing  to  me  to  know  that  the 
stewards  are  going  from  place  to  place,  soliciting 
funds  for  my  support.  But  this  can  not  be 
avoided,  and  therefore  must  be  borne.  It  seems 
to  be  the  only  way  a  minister's  salary  can  be 
raised  on  a  new  field. 


CHAPTER    X 

Moving  to  Norfolk — Turned  out  of  Doors  by  a  Brother 
in  the  Church — The  Death  of  our  Babe— Living  in 
the  House  with  a  Bad  Family— The  Grasshoppers 
again— The  Fuel  we  burned  — Drawing  Wood  by 
Hand— Our  Presiding  Elder  goes  East  and  solicits 
Aid  for  the  People — Our  Work  in  the  Harvest- 
field— I  go  to  Conference— Ordained  Elder— Re- 
turn to  Norfolk— Our  Experience  on  the  Charge 
the  Second  Year. 

As  there  were  no  railroads  running  through 
this  country  to  Norfolk,  our  new  field  of  labor, 
we  hired  a  brother  to  take  our  goods  through 
with  a  team,  and  I  took  my  wife  and  children  in 
the  buggy.  Before  starting  to  our  new  field, 
our  presiding  elder  instructed  us  to  go  to  a 
Brother  G.,  about  two  miles  from  the  town 
where  we  were  to  make  our  home.  Here,  he 
said,  we  would  find  a  Methodist  home,  where 
we  could  stay  until  ready  to  go  to  keeping  house. 
With  Mrs.  Wells  in  poor  health  and  a  sick  babe, 
we  traveled  three  days  through  the  mud  and 
cold,  hoping  to  find  a  welcome  when  at  our  jour- 
ney's end.  On  reaching  Norfolk  late  in  the 
236 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  237 

afternoon,  we  met  a  local  preacher,  who  kindly 
directed  us  to  Brother  G.'s  house,  which  the 
presiding  elder  had  recommended  to  us  as  a 
home  until  our  goods  should  arrive.  Late  in 
the  evening,  cold  and  hungry  and  with  a  sick 
child,  we  called  at  Brother  G.'s,  made  ourselves 
known,  and  were  very  coolly  invited  into  the 
house.  On  first  arriving,  we  found  that  Brother 
G.  was  not  at  home,  and  thought,  perhaps,  when 
he  arrived,  our  reception  would  be  different. 
He  soon  came  home  from  his  work,  but,  instead 
of  bringing  sunshine  with  him,  the  clouds  were 
thicker  and  blacker  than  ever.  He  gave  us  no 
encouragement  whatever,  but  by  his  actions 
made  us  understand  that  we  were  not  welcome, 
even  to  the  circuit,  much  less  to  his  home.  The 
meal  being  ready,  we  were  invited  to  the  dining- 
room,  where  we  ate  our  supper  alone.  After  we 
were  done,  and  had  left  the  room,  the  family  sat 
down  and  ate.  We  consoled  ourselves  some- 
what by  the  thought  that,  in  the  morning,  it 
would  be  different;  but  in  the  morning  we  sat 
down  to  breakfast  alone,  and  the  family  ate 
theirs,  as  before.  This  was  not  done  because 
of  the  want  of  room  or  the  need  of  dishes,  for 


238  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

they  had  an  abundance  of  both;  but  it  was  done 
to  make  it  appear  that  we  were  a  great  burden 
on  their  hands.  The  lady  of  the  house  claimed 
to  be  unwell,  and  not  able  to  do  the  work.  Mrs. 
Wells  offered  to  help  about  the  housework;  but 
the  good  sister,  by  her  actions,  gave  her  to  un- 
derstand that  she  did  n't  want  any  of  her  help. 
Though  Brother  G.  was  looked  upon  as  one  of 
the  leading  Methodists  of  that  country,  he  gave 
no  word  of  encouragement  regarding  the  work, 
and  said,  "There  is  no  house  where  you  can  live; 
neither  is  there  any  chance  for  a  support  on  the 
charge."  Though  young  in  the  ministry,  I  had 
gone  through  too  many  rough  places  to  be 
backed  down  in  this  way.  But  for  my  wife  and 
children,  I  should  have  gone  to  a  barn  or  hay- 
stack and  slept,  rather  than  staid  over  night 
where  I  was  not  welcome.  I  did  just  such  a 
thing  as  that  when  a  boy.  One  time  father  was 
holding  a  series  of  meetings  in  a  little  town 
about  twelve  miles  from  home,  which  my 
brothers  and  I  were  allowed  to  attend.  On 
going  home  with  a  family  to  spend  the  night,  I 
felt  that  we  were  not  welcome,  and  determined 
not  to  stay.     So  I  took  my  hat,  and  went  to  the 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  239 

barn,  climbed  on  top  of  a  hay-shed  in  the  open 
air,  and  rested  there  until  morning.  I  would 
rather  do  the  same  now  than  stay  where  I  am 
not  wanted.  We  had  passed  through  too  many 
hardships  to  feel  we  could  not  live  where  others 
were  doing  well.  If  we  could  do  no  better,  we 
could  make  our  home  in  a  tent.  But  I  believed 
there  would  be  a  way  provided. 

Soon  after  breakfast  we  drove  to  town  to 
search  for  a  house  to  live  in,  and  to  look  after 
our  goods,  which  we  expected  that  day.  Hear- 
ing of  a  young  lawyer  by  the  name  of  Robertson, 
who  was  a  Methodist,  we  hunted  him  up,  intro- 
duced ourselves,  and  told  him  what  we  wanted. 
He  seemed  to  be  very  glad  to  see  us,  gave  us 
a  very  warm  reception,  and  said,  "Yes,  we  will 
find  you  a  house."  In  less  than  half  an  hour 
he  came  to  us  with  the  information  that  he 
had  found  a  house  into  which  we  could  move 
at  any  time.  Not  knowing  how  coolly  we  were 
treated  at  G.'s,  he  advised  us  to  go  back  there 
and  stay  until  our  goods  should  arrive.  As  ap- 
parently we  were  not  wanted,  to  return  and 
stay  another  night  was  a  hard  pill  to  take;  but 
as  we  had  no  money  to  spend  at  the  hotel,  and 


240  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

our  babe  was  sick,  we  felt  it  was  the  only  thing 
to  be  done  at  the  time.  Besides,  we  had  left 
some  of  our  things  at  Brother  G.'s,  which  re- 
quired us  to  go  there  anyhow.  On  our  way 
back,  we  met  Mrs.  G.,  wading  through  the  mud 
toward  a  neighbor's,  and  she  informed  us  that 
we  would  find  our  things  on  the  porch.  On 
telling  her  that  our  goods  had  not  come,  and 
we  did  not  know  where  to  go,  she  said,  "I  am 
not  able  to  wait  on  you  any  longer."  She  was 
footing  it  away  from  home  to  get  rid  of  us, 
working  much  harder  than  she  need  have  done 
for  us  at  home.  Going  to  the  house,  we  found 
our  goods  on  the  porch,  and  the  doors  locked 
as  against  a  thief.  Previous  to  this  we  had 
thought  it  possible  that  this  unkindness  was 
only  imaginary  on  our  part,  but  now  there 
was  no  mistake.  They  did  n't  want  us,  and  had 
turned  us  out  of  doors. 

The  reader  may  know  something  of  our 
feelings  when  he  reflects  that  we  were  among 
strangers,  with  but  little  money,  a  very  sick- 
child,  and  no  shelter  from  the  night  air.  Surely 
this  was  one  of  the  greatest  trials  of  my  life. 
If  an  enemv  had  thus  turned  us  from  his  house, 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  24I 

we  could  have  endured  it  much  better;  but  it 
was  one  who  should  have  been  our  best  friend. 
If  I  mistake  not,  this  brother  was  a  steward 
in  the  Methodist  Church  at  the  time. 

Notwithstanding  the  great  annoyance,  we 
laughed  over  our  predicament,  and  returned 
to  the  town,  where  we  met  a  good  local  brother, 
who  lived  five  or  six  miles  in  the  country. 
After  telling  him  how  the  presiding  elder  had 
directed  us  to  Brother  G.'s,  and  how  we  had 
been  treated  by  Brother  G.,  he  sent  us  to  his 
home,  and  there  we  were  received  right  royally. 
This  brother's  name  is  John  Allberry,  a  local 
preacher,  whom  we  shall  ever  hold  in  grateful 
remembrance  for  his  kindness.  Brother  All- 
berry  was  a  poor  man,  but  had  a  large  heart. 
Though  he  lived  in  a  small  house,  he  made  us 
feel  at  home  and  far  more  comfortable  than 
if  he  had  possessed  all  the  needed  room  and 
conveniences,  without  a  good,  warm  welcome. 
After  getting  my  family  under  shelter,  appoint- 
ments were  made  for  Sunday  preaching.  The 
morning  appointment  was  at  the  Cunningham 
Schoolhouse,  where  I  found  friends  by  the 
score.  Brother  Cunningham  was  a  well-to-do 
16 


242  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

farmer,  though  not  a  Church  member  at  the 
time.  He  took  great  interest  in  our  welfare, 
perhaps  for  the  sake  of  his  wife,  who  was  one 
of  the  leading*  Methodists  of  that  community, 
and  who  always  delighted  to  make  the  preacher 
and  his  family  feel  at  home  in  her  house. 

Before  our  first  Sunday  on  the  charge  the 
news  of  Brother  G.'s  reception  of  the  pastor 
and  his  family  had  spread  throughout  the 
country,  and  every  Methodist  home  was  conse- 
quently now  thrown  open  to  us.  The  people, 
Church  members  and  all,  were  so  indignant  that 
they  made  Brother  G.  wish  he  was  somewhere 
else.  The  poor  fellow  lost  friends  on  all  sides, 
withdrew  from  the  Church,  and  soon  after  died. 
We  shall  leave  him  in  the  hands  of  a  just  God, 
hoping  that  he  repented  of  his  stinginess,  and 
is  in  heaven.  Although  we  had  such  a  cool 
reception  at  first,  we  never  anywhere  have  met 
with  warmer  friends  than  on  that  circuit. 

After  a  few  days'  waiting,  our  goods  came, 
and  we  were  keeping  house  on  our  new  field 
of  labor.  Our  ill-treatment  made  for  us  many 
friends,  and  perhaps  gave  us  access  to  the  hearts 
of  the  people  as  nothing  else  could  have  done. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  243 

We  moved  into  the  rooms  of  an  old  hotel  build- 
ing, which  was  rusty,  dirty,  and  cold.  We 
could  endure  this,  when  supplied  with  fuel  for 
the  fire  and  something  to  eat.  In  knocking 
around  from  place  to  place  in  the  cold,  damp 
weather,  our  sick  babe  continued  to  grow 
worse,  and  in  one  short  week  after  settling 
in  Norfolk  he  died.  Again  we  were  smitten 
with  sorrow.  Here  we  were,  far  from  home, 
among  entire  strangers,  and  our  little  child 
torn  from  our  bosoms.  But  this  new  and  deep 
affliction  called  around  us  many  friends,  who 
ministered  to  us  in  our  sorrow,  and  buried  our 
little  one  on  the  hillside  in  the  Norfolk  Ceme- 
tery, where  its  little  form  still  lies,  and  where  our 
parental  hearts  often  go  to  weep.  After  mak- 
ing the  acquaintance  of  the  people  on  the  entire 
charge,  we  were  well  pleased  with  our  circuit. 
I  was  the  first  traveling  preacher  sent  to  that 
charge  by  the  Conference,  though  Brother 
Beels,  a  local  preacher,  had  served  it  the  pre- 
vious year.  So,  you  see,  we  were  still  paving 
the  way  for  some  one  else.  This  year,  for 
several  reasons,  Mrs.  Wells  usually  accompanied 
me    to    my    appointments.      She    was    among 


244  A   FRONtflfifc.   tIFE 

strangers,  and  would  be  lonesome  if  left  at  home. 
Then,  the  house  was  very  cold,  with  unpleas- 
ant surroundings,  especially  on  Sundays,  when 
she  would  have  only  the  company  of  our  little 
daughter.  A  German  family  lived  in  one  room 
of  the  house  we  occupied,  and  on  Sundays  the 
Germans  would  gather  there  for  a  good  time. 
Sometimes  they  would  spend  much  of  the  day 
in  quarreling  and  fussing  with  each  other;  at 
other  times  they  would  have  a  general  jollifi- 
cation all  day  long.  Not  unfrequently,  when 
we  were  from  home,  the  woman  in  the  neigh- 
boring room  would  ransack  our  premises  from 
top  to  bottom,  and  take  what  she  dared,  and 
conceal  it.  This  we  knew  to  be  true;  for  we 
found  missing  things  in  her  possession,  which 
she  could  not  deny  having  taken.  And  the 
man  who  lived  in  the  house,  our  neighbor,  was 
accommodating  enough  to  help  use  both  our 
wood  and  hay. 

These  little  incidents  are  mentioned  that 
the  reader  may  better  understand  the  trials  ex- 
perienced by  an  itinerant  and  his  wife.  There 
are  people  who  say,  "What  a  fine  time  preach- 
ers have  in  this  world !"     I  hope  the  people  who 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  245 

say  this  may  be  so  fortunate  as  to  read  the  con- 
tents of  this  little  book;  not  because  it  is  a  won- 
derful production,  but  because  of  the  plain, 
simple  facts  it  gives  in  regard  to  the  frontier 
work  of  the  ministry.  True,  there  are  many 
blessed  things  in  connection  with  the  work  of 
the  ministry.  If  there  were  no  sunshine,  no  pas- 
tor would  be  able  to  endure  the  burdens  im- 
posed upon  him. 

When  we  were  taking  leave  of  the  people 
at  Red  Cloud,  a  Baptist  lady  said  to  me:  "I 
envy  you  Methodist  preachers  in  one  thing: 
you  go  to  so  many  places,  and  make  so  many 
friends;"  to  which  I  replied,  "Yes,  and  so  many 
enemies,  too."  Preachers  get  the  bitter  with 
the  sweet.  Of  course,  my  experience  is  not  the 
experience  of  all  preachers.  As  with  other  oc- 
cupations, some  have  smooth  sailing,  and  oth- 
ers have  a  rough  time  all  the  way  through.  Be- 
sides, I  am  not  giving  the  bright  side,  but  at- 
tempting to  picture  the  dark  side,  of  a  minister's 
life  on  the  frontier. 

This  year  we  had  another  very  dry  season, 
resulting  in  light  crops,  on  which  the  grass- 
hoppers   came    down    by    multiplied    millions. 


246  A   FRONTIER  LIFE 

Great  destitution  and  suffering  followed,  and  it 
was  hard  for  the  preacher  to  obtain  support. 
The  grasshoppers  came  in  such  swarms  that 
they  looked  in  the  distance  like  fast-gathering 
rainclouds  flying  through  the  air.  In  some 
places  on  the  fields  of  grain  they  were  so  numer- 
ous that  the  grain  was  completely  hid  from 
sight.  If  they  had  kept  still,  a  man  with  a  scoop- 
shovel  could  have  filled  a  common  wagon-bed 
with  them  in  a  few  minutes.  For  a  number  of 
years  it  seemed  to  be  our  lot  to  meet  with  the 
grasshoppers,  which  would  take  meat,  bread, 
and  other  things  from  our  table. 

The  fall  season  passed  off  pleasantly  and 
quietly,  and  we  enjoyed  our  work.  The  trials 
we  passed  through  at  the  outset  better  prepared 
us  for  others  that  might  follow.  We  had  four 
regular  appointments,  with  preaching  at  each 
every  two  weeks.  Winter  set  in  early,  and  was 
long  and  severe,  which  caused  us  considerable 
suffering.  I  say  suffering;  for  we  did  suffer 
from  the  cold.  We  did  a  great  deal  of  travel- 
ing in  the  bitter  weather;  but  this  we  didn't 
mind  so  much  as  having  to  suffer  from  the  cold 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  247 

when  at  home.  Our  house  was  an  unfinished 
frame  building,  and  exceedingly  airy.  Besides 
a  house  exposed  to  the  winds,  we  had  the  poor- 
est of  fuel.  There  being  no  coal  in  the  coun- 
try, we  burned  such  wood  as  the  brethren  could 
bring  to  us,  principally  green  cottonwood. 
Whoever  has  tried  burning  green  cottonwood 
for  winter  fuel  will  know  how  we  fared  during 
the  severe  weather.  The  only  way  we  could 
keep  fire  at  all  in  the  coldest  weather  was  by 
having  a  good  supply  in  the  house,  and,  while 
a  part  was  burning,  the  rest  would  be  thawing 
and  drying.  In  this  way,  by  continually  crowd- 
ing the  stove  with  wood,  we  managed  to 
avoid  freezing.  Sometimes  during  the  severest 
weather  our  woodpile  gave  out,  and  I  would 
have  to  replenish  it  with  my  own  hands.  About 
a  half  mile  up  the  river  there  was  a  large  plum- 
thicket,  with  many  dead  bushes.  When  we  were 
out  of  wood,  I  took  a  long  rope  and  my  ax, 
went  to  this  place,  cut  down  dead  plum-bushes, 
piled  them  on  the  ice  in  the  river,  tied  the  rope 
about  them,  and  dragged  them  on  the  ice  to 
the  house,  which  was  only  a  few  rods  from  the 


248  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

river.  In  this  way  I  could  draw  an  immense 
pile  of  brush,  especially  when  the  ice  was 
smooth. 

Here  let  me  say  to  the  reader  that,  during  all 
this  time,  we  had  a  home  to  which  we  could 
have  gone  and  made  a  comfortable  living.  But 
we  thought  that  duty  called  us  from  home  and 
friends,  and  so  we  went.  I  have  been  wonder- 
fully astonished  at  seemingly  intelligent  people's 
questions  in  regard  to  our  living  and  making 
money;  such  as  the  following:  "Can't  you  make 
a  better  living  on  your  farm  than  you  can  by 
preaching?"  As  a  matter  of  course  we  could, 
if  a  living  was  the  only  consideration.  How  lit- 
tle many  Christian  people  realize  what  a  call 
to  the  ministry  means !  I  certainly  would  never 
have  preached  if  I  had  not  felt,  "Woe  is  me  if 
I  preach  not  the  gospel." 

The  crops  having  been  destroyed  by  drouth 
and  grasshoppers  during  the  summer,  it  seemed 
almost  impossible  that  many  of  the  people  could 
get  through  the  winter.  Taking  into  considera- 
tion the  condition  of  the  preachers  and  Church 
on  the  frontier  work,  our  presiding  elder  went 
East,  and  solicited  money,  goods,  and  provisions 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  249 

for  the  people,  and  especially  for  the  preachers' 
families.  Had  he  not  done  so,  we  should  have 
seen  much  harder  times,  or  been  compelled 
to  abandon  our  work.  Goods  were  shipped  to 
me,  to  use  whatever  was  needed  for  my  family, 
and  the  rest  was  to  be  given  to  the  most  needy 
around  us.  In  this  way  many  were  helped 
through  the  winter.  The  preachers  through- 
out our  Western  country  were  helped  in  this 
way,  and  it  was  made  possible  for  them  to  re- 
main on  their  work. 

After  passing  through  all  this,  and  seeing 
how  wonderfully  the  Lord  had  sustained  us, 
we  can  realize  the  force  and  truthfulness  of  the 
promise,  "Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto 
the  end  of  the  world."  I  feel  sure  that  when 
a  minister  goes  to  his  work  and  does  his  duty, 
the  Lord  will  provide  for  his  needs,  though 
he  may  have  a  very  difficult  charge.  If  the 
Lord  has  not  promised  the  minister  much  of  this 
world,  he  sometimes  gives  it  to  him.  As  he  has 
not  promised  ease  in  Zion,  let  us  not  be  discour- 
aged if  we  do  not  find  it. 

We  received  financial  aid  in  another  way 
while  on  this  charge.    I  drove  a  four-horse  team 


250  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

nearly  through  one  harvesting  of  small  grain. 
The  Lord,  in  thus  giving  me  something  to  do 
at  which  I  could  earn  a  few  dollars,  helped  me 
to  provide  for  my  family.  Some  may  think  it 
disgraceful  for  a  minister  to  work  in  the  har- 
vest-field, but  I  enjoyed  it,  and  felt  it  quite  an 
honor  to  be  able  to  do  so  much  for  myself. 
Want  did  not  compel  me  to  go  to  work  in  the 
harvest-field,  but  we  had  a  scanty  supply,  and 
I  thought  this  would  help  fill  our  larder  and  do 
no  harm  further  than  taking  me  from  my  stud- 
ies. I  have  always  told  the  brethren  that  I  had 
good,  strong,  and  willing  hands,  and,  if  need  be, 
could  make  my  living  by  manual  labor.  The 
good  Lord,  however,  has  always  provided  a 
way,  and  I  have  never  been  compelled  to  leave 
the  ministry  in  order  to  make  a  living,  though, 
at  times  my  family  has  had  scanty  rations  and 
but  little  of  the  luxuries  of  life.  Many  times, 
during  this  Conference  year,  we  have  sat  down 
to  the  table  with  only  bread  and  coffee  for 
breakfast;  at  other  times  our  meal  consisted 
of  bread  and  butter  alone,  without  tea,  coffee, 
or  sugar.  At  the  beginning  of  my  ministry  I 
adopted  the  rule  of  not  going  in  debt  for  any- 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  251 

thing  when  it  could  be  avoided.  Because  of 
this  rule,  we  were  sometimes  for  weeks  with- 
out sugar  in  the  house,  excepting  a  little  Mrs. 
Wells  laid  by  in  case  of  sickness  or  other  emer- 
gencies. 

During  the  winter  of  this  Conference  year 
we  had  some  good  revival-meetings,  and  many 
were  taken  into  the  Church.  The  Lord  blessed 
the  entire  charge,  and  gave  us  many  souls  for 
our  hire.  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord! 
In  all  my  ministerial  work,  to  this  time,  I  had 
not  preached  in  a  Methodist  church  since  join- 
ing the  Conference,  and  had  been  inside  of  none 
excepting  at  Conference.  My  work  had  been 
in  private  dwellings  and  schoolhouses,  or  in 
borrowed  churches.  At  Lyons  we  occupied  the 
Presbyterian  church,  and  at  Norfolk  the  Con- 
gregational church.  These  things  are  not  told 
complainingly,  but  only  to  show  the  real  work 
of  my  life.  I  suppose  I  am  best  adapted  to 
border  work,  and,  if  so,  there  is  where  I  ought 
to  be. 

Some  time  during  the  year  another  appoint- 
ment was  made  at  a  little  town  called  Pierce, 
in  Pierce  County.     Mine  was  the  first  Method- 


252  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

ist  preaching,  and  probably  the  first  preaching 
of  any  kind,  in  this  little  town. 

At  the  opening  of  spring  we  moved  into  a 
house  on  a  farm,  a  short  distance  from  town, 
where  we  had  much  better  accommodation  than 
in   the  old  tenement-house. 

Conference  is  at  hand,  and  I  am  to  preach 
my  last  sermon,  and  go. 

At  my  last  meeting  in  Norfolk  before  Con- 
ference, many  of  the  citizens  turned  out  to  hear 
me,  as  we  all  thought,  possibly  for  the  last  time. 
At  the  appointed  time  I  announced  this  text, 
from  which  I  tried  to  preach,  "The  Lord  is  a 
Spirit."  After  hammering  at  and  wrestling 
with  it  for  about  thirty  minutes,  I  sat  down 
completely  chagrined  and  wonderfully  morti- 
fied. I  felt  really  ashamed  of  having  so  bored 
the  people.  The  next  day  a  steward  went  about 
the  town,  trying  to  make  up  my  salary,  and 
called  on  one  of  the  merchants  for  this  purpose. 
The  merchant  asked  how  much  he  wanted. 
The  steward  answered,  "As  much  as  I  can  get." 
The  merchant  said,  "Well,  I  '11  give  you  five 
dollars;  for  the  last  sermon  Mr.  Wells  preached 
is  worth  that  much  to  me."     Had  there  been 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  253 

any  chance  for  thinking  so,  I  would  have 
thought  he  was  making  light  of  my  sermon;  but 
I  could  not  doubt  his  sincerity.  After  this  I 
concluded  that,  though  I  did  not  please  myself 
in  trying  to  preach,  still  the  people  might  be 
pleased;  also,  that  I  could  not  always  tell  when 
1  was  interesting  the  congregation.  Perhaps 
the  merchant  was  the  only  one  interested  or 
benefited  at  all  by  my  discourse;  but  if  it  did 
good  even  to  one,  it  was  a  success.  I  find  that 
almost  any  kind  of  a  sermon  will  interest  some 
one  in  a  congregation.  After  years  of  experi- 
ence in  addressing  audiences,  one  can  usually 
tell  whether  he  is  interesting  a  congregation  or 
not.  When  a  speaker  sees  that  his  hearers  are 
interested,  it  is  an  inspiration  to  him,  and  it 
is  much  easier  to  speak  to  them  than  to  a  heed- 
less audience. 

Off  again  to  Conference,  which  meets  this 
year  at  Lincoln.  There  being  no  railroad  from 
here  to  Lincoln,  we  must  drive  through  with 
our  ponies.  In  company  with  other  ministers, 
we  journeyed  toward  the  seat  of  Conference. 
After  traveling  until  nearly  sundown,  we  began 
to  inquire  for  a  lodging-place  for  the  night.    The 


254  A  FRONTIER   LIFE 

first  man  whom  we  addressed  said  he  could  not 
keep  us,  but  his  neighbor,  a  little  farther  on, 
could.  Going  to  that  neighbor,  he  said  he 
could  not  keep  us,  but  his  next  neighbor,  a  little 
farther  on,  could.  Calling  at  the  next  house, 
we  were  told  the  same  thing.  By  this  time 
night  was  upon  us,  and  we  were  traveling  in 
the  dark.  Coming  to  another  house,  we  drove 
up  to  the  yard,  and  asked  the  man  if  he  could 
keep  us  over  night.  He  said,  "Well,  no;  I  can't 
keep  you  to-night."  Notwithstanding  we  were 
preachers,  we  by  this  time  had  become  quite  mis- 
chievous over  our  many  failures;  for  the  thing 
indeed  was  laughable  as  well  as  ridiculous.  One 
of  the  brethren  who  was  a  good-natured  fellow, 
and  full  of  fun,  said  to  this  man,  "We  have  been 
looking  for  a  place  to  stay  over  night  for  several 
miles  back,  and  every  one  has  turned  us  off, 
and  now,  if  somebody  do  n't  look  out,  he  is 
going  to  get  a  licking."  Going  a  short  distance 
farther,  we  called  at  a  widow's  house,  where 
we  found  a  home  for  the  night. 

The  next  day  we  drove  until  long  after 
night,  that  we  might  be  at  the  opening  of  Con- 
ference, and  answer  to  roll-call.    Here  I  reported 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  255 

thirty-three  members  in  full  connection  and 
two  hundred  dollars  on  salary.  I  presume  that 
fifty  dollars  would  cover  what  I  received  in  cash 
this  year,  as  I  took  nearly  all  my  salary  in  trade 
of  some  kind.  I  remember  one  man's  giving  me 
potatoes.  He  said :  "Come  down,  and  get  some 
potatoes.  You  might  just  as  well  have  them 
as  not;  for  if  you  don't  get  them,  I  shall  feed 
them  to  the  hogs."  Those  potatoes  came  handy 
to  us;  but  if  he  could  have  sold  them  for  the 
money  or  used  them  himself,  we  would  have 
got  none  of  them.  Just  so  with  even  certain 
Church  members :  that  which  they  can  neither 
use  themselves  nor  sell,  and  which  they  do  n't 
care  to  feed  to  the  hogs,  they  give  to  the  Lord, 
if  his  poor  servants  will  come  and  gather  it.  But 
such  contributions  are  often  welcome  to  the  fron- 
tier preacher;  he  is  glad  to  get  them.  Some  of 
our  people  are  like  the  Dutchman  who,  when 
asked  how  he  managed  to  make  money  so  fast, 
replied:  "We  work  hard  and  raise  all  we  can; 
and  what  we  can,  we  sell;  and  what  we  can't 
sell,  we  feed  to  the  hogs;  and  what  the  hogs 
won't  eat,  we  eat  ourselves."  Some  Church 
members   sell   what   they   can,   and   what   they 


256  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

can't  sell  they  eat,  and  what  they  can't  eat  they 
give  to  the  preacher.  I  am  glad  to  say  that  we 
have  few  such  men  in  our  Church;  for  our  peo- 
ple are  a  sacrificing  class  of  Christians,  many  of 
them  doing  even  more  than  the  Lord  requires. 

This  year  we  had  a  long  siege  at  Conference. 
One  of  the  brethren  was  accused  of  certain  ir- 
regularities, and  arraigned  for  trial,  and  I  was 
appointed  on  the  committee  to  try  the  case. 
The  case  was  brought  before  the  committee  at 
the  beginning  of  the  Conference,  and  continued 
several  days  and  nights.  At  the  close  of  the 
trial  we  sat  all  night  long.  A  little  after  sun-up 
the  case  was  turned  over  into  our  hands,  and  we 
closed  for  breakfast.  O  how  sad  to  have  a 
brother  minister  accused  of  crime  and  arraigned 
before  the  Conference!  I  wish  there  might  be 
some  way  to  bring  the  accuser  to  justice  when 
the  accused  is  found  innocent! 

At  Lincoln,  on  the  nineteenth  day  of  Sep- 
tember, 1875,  I  was  ordained  elder  by  Bishop 
Gilbert  Haven,  who  has  long  since  quit  the  field 
and  gone  home  to  rest  from  his  labors.  Now  I 
am  a  full-fledged   Methodist  preacher.      When 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  257 

the  appointments  were  announced,  I  was  re- 
turned to  Norfolk  to  serve  another  year. 

This  year  was  not  so  full  of  trials  and  afflic- 
tions as  the  previous  one,  though  we  had  rough 
times  and  plenty  of  hard  work.  Having  to 
move  into  another  house,  we  rented  one  still 
farther  in  the  country,  and  our  home  now  was 
a  country  home.  Here  we  spent  the  winter  in 
a  little  house  not  more  than  twelve  by  fourteen 
feet  in  size,  and  one  story  high.  Though  the 
house  was  small,  we  were  quite  comfortable,  and 
enjoyed  ourselves  very  well.  The  circuit  had 
grown  more  in  size  than  in  numbers,  making  an 
unwieldy  work  on  our  hands.  An  additional 
burden  was  imposed  upon  us  by  the  removal  of 
a  local  preacher  who  had  supplied  an  adjoining 
circuit,  and  my  being  put  in  charge  of  his  work. 
I  had  now  the  oversight  of  two  large  circuits, 
which  I  could  manage  only  by  employing  the 
local  preachers  to  help  me  out.  In  this  way 
we  gave  each  point  preaching  every  two  weeks, 
though  there  were  nine  appointments  on  the 
two  circuits. 

After  the  presiding  elder  had  removed  the 
17 


258  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

brother  from  the  Madison  Charge,  and  placed 
it  in  my  care,  we  removed  to  Madison,  because 
there  was  a  parsonage  at  that  place,  which, 
though  small,  was  better  than  living  in  a  rented 
house.  This  was  our  fourth  move  in  less  than 
two  years.  In  moving  into  all  kinds  of  houses 
we  find  all  kinds  of  insects  that  prey  upon  human 
blood.  One  house  we  found  as  nearly  alive  with 
bugs  as  a  house  could  be,  and  not  walk  off. 
Soon  after  going  to  bed  the  first  night,  the  bugs 
sallied  out  upon  us  by  the  hundreds,  as  if  we 
were  sent  there  on  purpose  to  feed  them.  Wife 
and  I  heroically  defended  ourselves  and  child 
from  the  invaders  by  killing  them  as  fast  as  they 
charged  upon  us,  not  allowing  too  many  to  get 
hold  of  us  at  once;  for  they  acted  as  if  they  in- 
tended to  carry  us  to  their  hiding-place  for  fu- 
ture use.  After  killing  the  first  squad  that  came 
out  of  ambush,  we  began  to  count  as  fast  as  we 
destroyed  them,  and  by  actual  count  we  killed 
more  than  two  hundred,  besides  the  many  we 
had  deprived  of  life  before  beginning  to  count. 
Some  people  have  a  great  dread  of  certain  kinds 
of  bugs,  especially  such  as  creep  into  houses 
and  get  into  bed  with  them;  but  if  they  were  as 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  259 

well  acquainted  with  these  innocent  little  crea- 
tures as  are  the  frontier  preachers  of  the  West- 
ern country,  they  would  know  that  their  bite  is 
not  always  fatal,  though  sometimes  they  do 
cause  considerable  suffering. 

While  Mrs.  Wells,  our  little  daughter,  and 
I  were  crossing  the  State  of  Nebraska  on  our 
way  to  our  circuit  in  the  northern  part  of  the 
State,  we  called  at  a  sod  farmhouse  to  stay  over- 
night. Being  made  welcome,  we  went  in  and 
found  everything  as  neat  and  clean  as  could  be 
in  any  house  of  the  kind.  That  evening  the  lady 
had  just  finished  house-cleaning,  and  everything 
seemed  to  be  in  order.  Wife  and  I  were  given 
a  clean  bed;  so  we  took  our  little  girl,  and  re- 
tired. The  weather  was  exceedingly  warm,  and 
soon  after  going  to  bed  the  child  began  to  fret, 
and  said,  "Mamma,  the  mosquitos  bite  me  so." 
Within  a  few  minutes  we  felt  them  lighting  on 
our  faces,  but  not  with  the  smell  of  a  mosquito. 
They  continued  to  come  faster  and  faster,  until 
we  were  rolling,  scratching,  and  pounding  in 
self-defense.  We  spent  a  night  of  wakefulness 
and  continual  warfare,  but  came  off  victorious, 
though  not  without  great  loss  of  blood.     Look- 


26o  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

ing  over  the  battle-ground  the  next  morning, 
we  found  it  stained  with  the  blood  of  many 
slain.  Our  hostess  was  a  nice  and  tidy  house- 
keeper; but,  as  her  house-roof  was  made  of  poles, 
hay,  sorghum-stalks,  and  dirt,  it  was  a  splendid 
rendezvous  for  bugs.  There  they  could  live  in 
safety  during  the  day,  and  at  night  sally  forth 
on  a  foraging  expedition,  drop  from  the  roof 
into  the  face  of  the  unsuspecting  victim,  fill  them- 
selves, and  return  to  their  quarters  in  the  roof. 
The  only  possible  way  to  drive  them  from  their 
barracks  in  such  a  place  is  to  burn  roof  and  all. 
Now,  do  n't  think  that  Nebraska  preachers  have 
seen  no  bugs!  The  frontier  preachers  of  Ne- 
braska are  used  to  Indians,  buffaloes,  elk,  deer, 
antelopes,  turkeys,  prairie-dogs,  grasshoppers, 
bedbugs,  fleas,  and  sod-houses. 

This  year  we  made  a  trip  to  Fairbury,  to 
visit  our  folks,  driving  all  the  way  there  and  back 
with  our  ponies.  While  returning  to  our  charge, 
it  rained  most  of  the  time.  One  day  we  traveled 
all  day  long  through  the  rain  in  an  open  buggy. 
The  reader  may  ask,  "Why  travel  all  day  in  the 
rain?"  Because  the  frontier  preachers  have  no 
money  to  pay  hotel  bills,  or  to  spend  anywhere 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  261 

in  lying  over  for  the  rain  to  cease.  There  is  no 
class  of  professional  men  that  is  not  better  paid 
for  their  work  than  the  average  preacher.  True, 
some  ministers  have  large  salaries,  and  live  on 
the  best  of  the  land;  but  they  are  the  exception. 
This  year  we  went  through  the  regular  rou- 
tine of  work  on  the  charge,  having  a  very  good 
year,  but  no  great  revival  demonstration.  The 
people  in  Madison  made  it  quite  pleasant  for 
us  while  among  them.  Though  we  are  not 
writing  of  the  bright  side  of  our  life,  yet,  with 
much  pleasure,  I  remember  one  incident  of  our 
happy  experience  while  serving  the  Madison 
and  Norfolk  Circuits,  which  I  must  relate.  One 
beautiful  day  in  the  summer  season,  about  thirty 
of  the  citizens  procured  a  large  tent,  and  went 
on  an  excursion  to  the  "Yellow  Banks,"  on  the 
Elkhorn  River,  about  fifteen  miles  away.  Here 
we  pleasantly  spent  two  days  and  nights  in  a 
general  picnic,  with  fishing.  We  sang,  delivered 
speeches,  and  made  the  woods  ring  with  our 
laughter.  In  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day 
we  returned  home,  every  one  refreshed  and  feel- 
ing better  for  having  laid  aside  home  cares  for 
even  so  short  a  time. 


262  a  Frontier  life 

This  Conference  year  passed  off  very  pleas- 
antly, and  with  but  little  worth  mentioning  in 
this  sketch. 

Conference-time  is  again  at  hand,  and  we 
must  be  off  to  Falls  City.  On  our  way  to  the 
seat  of  Conference  we  went  by  the  way  of  Blue 
Springs.  In  this  little  town,  fourteen  years  ago, 
I  preached  my  first  sermon  in  Nebraska,  and  the 
second  one  of  my  life,  and  here  I  was  licensed 
as  a  local  preacher.  The  town  was  changed, 
and  many  of  the  old  settlers  had  gone;  but  there 
were  a  few  faces  that  I  yet  recognized.  During 
the  night  I  was  taken  quite  unwell,  and  remained 
so  all  the  next  day.  Riding  all  day  in  the  hot 
sun  made  me  still  worse.  At  night  I  called  at 
the  home  of  the  Rev.  I.  M.  Adair,  then  pastor 
at  Table  Rock,  whose  good  wife  took  my  case 
in  hand,  brought  me  through,  and  I  felt  quite 
well  the  next  morning.  After  breakfast,  Brother 
Adair  and  I  drove  to  the  seat  of  the  Conference, 
and  answered  to  roll-call.  This  year  I  reported 
one  hundred  and  three  members  for  the  Norfolk 
and  Madison  Circuits,  and  received  one  hundred 
and  thirty  dollars  on  salary.  The  grasshoppers 
had  taken  a  greater  portion  of  my  salary  claim 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  263 

and  eaten  it  up,  so  we  had  to  be  satisfied  with 
what  they  left.  Spiritually  and  socially  this  had 
been  a  very  pleasant  year,  but,  financially,  among 
the  hardest  in  all  my  ministry;  for  now  I  had  a 
family  to  support,  and  needed  more  than  when 
alone. 

When  the  appointments  were  announced, 
my  name  was  called  for  Oakdale,  which  is  upon 
the  Elkhorn  Valley,  in  Antelope  County,  still 
farther  west  than  my  previous  appointment. 
Returning  home,  trusty  persons  were  hired  to 
remove  our  goods,  and,  with  our  ponies,  we 
rode  away  in  quest  of  our  new  field  of  labor. 

One  bright,  beautiful  spring  morning  my 
presiding  elder,  J.  B.  Maxfield,  and  I  went  to 
look  after  Methodist  families,  thinking  to  estab- 
lish a  new  preaching-point.  Knowing  of  a 
county  superintendent  who  was  a  Methodist  and 
living  in  the  community,  we  directed  our  course 
to  his  house,  expecting  to  take  dinner  with  him. 
Reaching  the  place,  we  drove  into  the  yard,  and 
then  entered  the  house,  and  introduced  ourselves 
to  the  superintendent's  wife,  who  received  us 
kindly,  but  with  great  embarrassment.  The 
house  we  had  entered  was  partly  dug  in   the 


264  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

ground  and  partly  built  of  sod,  with  a  dirt  roof 
and  floor,  the  wife  wearing  hardly  enough  cloth- 
ing to  hide  her  shame,  and  her  children  run- 
ning about  the  room,  some  of  them  almost  stark 
naked.  Dinner  was  begun,  and  some  of  the 
children  hurried  off  to  the  neighbors  to  borrow 
dishes;  for,  from  appearances,  there  was  not 
an  earthen  plate  or  teacup  in  the  house.  Going- 
out  to  the  haystack,  we  lay  there  until  called 
for  dinner.  If  I  ever  pitied  a  woman,  I  did  this 
one;  for  she  was  a  handsome,  intelligent,  and 
noble  Christian  lady,  but  was  completely  crushed 
with  poverty  and  neglect.  How  inhuman  some 
men  are,  who  claim  to  be  husbands  and  Chris- 
tians! 


CHAPTER  XI 

Settling  at  Oakdale- Routed  from  Bed  at  a  Brother's 
House— Preached  at  O'Neill  City,  Holt  County— 
A  Trip  up  the  Elkhorn  with  Brother  Wolf- 
Turned  out  into  the  River — Tumor  removed  from 
Mrs.  Wells's  Breast— Move  to  Albion,  Boone  County, 
and  Experience  there. 

At  Oakdale  we  were  not  entire  strangers, 
as  in  other  places  where  we  had  been.  Attend- 
ing a  camp-meeting  at  this  place  the  previous 
year,  we  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  some 
of  the  brethren  on  the  charge,  and  now,  finding 
a  good-sized  parsonage  well  located,  we  settled 
down,  feeling  quite  at  home.  The  people  gath- 
ered around  us,  and  made  us  feel  that  we  were 
welcome  among  them.  After  settling  in  our 
new  home,  I  went  out  in  search  of  the  members 
on  the  charge.  Hearing  of  a  good  brother  sev- 
eral miles  from  town,  I  started  for  his  home,  ex- 
pecting to  spend  the  night  with  him.  It  being 
farther  than  I  had  supposed,  it  was  late  in  the 
evening  when  I  reached  the  place.  The  night 
was  very  dark,  and  the  good  brother  was  not  at 
265 


266  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

home.  The  woman  seemed  glad  to  see  me,  but 
at  the  same  time  appeared  ill  at  ease — I  knew 
not  why.  Within  a  few  hours  after  I  had  re- 
tired for  the  night,  however,  the  cause  of  her 
uneasiness  was  revealed.  Perhaps  half  of  the 
night  had  gone  when  the  family  was  called  up, 
and  the  children  were  dressed  to  be  sent  away. 
At  first  I  thought  they  were  rising  for  the  morn- 
ing work,  and  lay  still.  Soon  I  heard  them 
whispering,  and  all  at  once  the  cause  of  this 
hurry  and  bustle  flashed  on  my  mind,  and  I 
arose  and  got  out  of  that  cabin  at  short-meter 
rate.  I  was  hurried  to  a  near  neighbor's,  and 
there  allowed  to  sleep  the  rest  of  the  night.  In 
the  morning  I  learned  that  there  was  one  more 
in  the  family  where  I  had  been  routed  from  bed. 
Unto  them  a  child  was  born. 

Before  reaching  home,  I  met  with  Brother 
Bennette,  a  most  earnest  man  and  a  local 
preacher  of  excellent  reputation,  who  proved 
to  be  of  great  service  on  the  charge  ana  a  warm 
friend  of  the  preacher  and  his  family.  How 
pleasant  to  meet  such  godly  men,  to  whom  you 
can  go  for  counsel  and  help  in  times  of  need ! 
The  Lord  bless  such  local  preachers! 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  267 

At  this  time  Oakdale  Circuit  embraced  Oak- 
dale,  Neligh,  Bennette  Schoolhouse,  and  the 
Rouse  Schoolhouse.  This  is  as  I  found  the 
circuit,  but  before  I  left  it  was  considerably 
enlarged.  During  the  winter  we  had  some  re- 
vival-meetings, and  souls  were  converted  and 
brought  into  the  Church.  Though  Oakdale  is 
farther  west,  it  is  an  older  charge  than  the  Nor- 
folk or  Madison  Charge.  The  parsonage  was 
built  some  three  years  before  we  came,  and  the 
Church  was  well  organized  and  in  good  running- 
order.  Here,  as  at  many  other  places,  most  of 
the  Methodists  were  homesteaders,  and  were 
poor  in  this  world's  goods,  so  there  was  but 
little  wealth  within  the  Church.  As  the  people 
were  poor,  we  could  not  expect  a  rich  harvest 
of  good  things  while  among  them  and  depend- 
ing upon  them  for  the  necessaries  of  life.  Dur- 
ing the  entire  Conference  year  we  received  not 
more  than  thirty  dollars  in  cash  from  the  whole 
charge,  and  yet  we  lived  tolerably  well.  Our 
salary  was  principally  paid  in  flour,  corn,  hay, 
meat,  drygoods,  and  groceries;  then  what  need 
had  we  for  money?  We  are  not  finding  fault 
with  the  brethren;  for  they  themselves  had  but 


268  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

little  or  no  money.  Usually,  on  these  new  fields, 
we  received  about  fifty  dollars  missionary  money. 
But  for  this  missionary  appropriation  which 
the  frontier  preachers  received,  many  of  them 
would  have  gone  hungry  or  abandoned  their 
work.  Few  realize  the  good  they  are  doing 
when  giving  to  the  missionary  cause.  By  these 
missionary  appropriations  thousands  of  new 
fields  are  opened  which  would  otherwise  lie  un- 
cultivated. All  the  charges  that  are  able  to  do 
it  should  give  liberally  to  the  missionary  funds; 
for  they  were  themselves  once  aided  by  mission- 
ary money,  and  so  enabled  to  support  a  minis- 
ter. The  giving  money  to  support  preaching  in 
your  own  community  is  not  a  benevolent  act; 
for  you  receive  full  value  for  every  dollar  ex- 
pended in  this  way.  Giving  to  support  preach- 
ing among  others,  where  we  never  expect  to 
be  benefited  thereby,  may  be  called  true  be- 
nevolence; but  we  never  give  to  a  good  cause 
without  being  benefited  ourselves  in  some  way; 
for  "it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 
Though  a  man  does  n't  attend  church  himself, 
he  ought  to  give  toward  its  support;  for  he  is 
indebted  to  it  for  what  it  does  for  him  financially. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  269 

While  he  is  receiving  financial  benefit,  his  chil- 
dren are  being  made  better  by  having  safeguards 
thrown  around  them,  guarding  them  from  moral 
destruction.  Where  the  gospel  is  preached,  all 
are  benefited.  When  one  of  our  missionaries 
first  went  to  his  field  of  labor,  a  native  merchant 
gave  him  a  hundred  dollars.  The  missionary 
had  been  there  several  months,  but  saw  nothing 
of  his  benefactor  in  any  of  his  congregations. 
Meeting  him  on  the  street  one  day,  he  said  to 
him:  "How  is  this?  When  I  first  came  here, 
you  gave  me  a  hundred  dollars  to  preach  for  you, 
and  you  have  not  been  to  hear  me  at  all."  The 
native  said:  "That  is  all  right.  I  do  n't  care  to 
hear  you;  but  while  you  missionaries  are  here 
preaching,  my  property  is  safer,  and  to  me  it 
is  worth  a  hundred  dollars  a  year  to  have  you 
here."  The  heathen  soon  learn  that  the  gospel 
is  a  savings  bank  wherever  preached. 

Oakdale  was  a  large  circuit  on  our  first 
coming  here,  but  we  soon  added  to  it,  making 
a  very  large  one,  many  miles  around. 

During  the  summer  I  learned  that  there 
were  Methodist  people  up  the  Elkhorn  River 
as  far  west  as  O'Neill  City,  about  forty  miles 


270  ^   FRONTIER   LIFE 

from  Oakdale.  By  request  of  the  presiding 
elder,  J.  B.  Maxfield,  I  went  there  and  found 
a  few  Methodist  families.  Every  four  weeks  I 
visited  and  preached  to  them  in  one  of  their 
private  houses.  As  I  could  not  give  them  Sun- 
day services,  they  would  come  together  on 
Thursday  evening,  and  I  met  and  preached  to 
them  in  a  sod-house,  or  a  dug-out.  In  this 
way  preaching  at  O'Neill  was  continued  during 
the  warm  season;  but  I  found  it  too  much  of  a 
task  in  cold  weather.  Sometimes  I  would  go 
up  there  a  day  or  two  before  the  appointed  time 
for  preaching,  and  spend  the  time  in  calling  on 
the  people  or  in  fishing,  becoming  a  fisher  of 
fish  as  well  as  a  fisher  of  men.  I  remember 
once  taking  the  spear  and  going  down  to  the 
river  in  search  of  fish.  A  short  distance  from 
the  house  I  saw  one  lying  close  to  the  shore. 
It  was  a  large,  fine  pickerel,  and  I  became  quite 
anxious  to  secure  it  for  dinner.  Carefully 
throwing  the  spear,  I  struck  it,  but  it  was  a  very 
large  one,  and  as  I  did  not  strike  it  in  the  right 
place  to  hold  it,  the  fish  flounced,  broke  loose, 
and  swam  away.  Seeing  my  game  so  deliber- 
ately leaving  me,  I  plunged  into  the  river  after 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  271 

it.  After  following  the  wounded  fish  a  half  mile 
or  more,  wading  most  of  the  way  waist-deep  in 
water,  the  chase  was  abandoned,  and  I  returned 
to  the  house,  Ashless.  Another  time,  while  on 
a  trip  to  this  place,  I  stopped  on  the  river  bank 
to  feed  the  horses  and  eat  a  cold  lunch,  when  I 
saw  some  nice  bass  playing  in  the  water  close 
by.  My  fish  hook  was  soon  put  in  order  and 
thrown  in,  with  a  hope  to  capture  them.  In  a 
very  few  minutes  I  landed  five  of  them  on  the 
shore,  and  was  on  the  road  toward  home. 

By  request  of  the  presiding  elder,  Brother 
J.  R.  Wolfe  and  I  made  a  trip  to  O'Neill  City, 
and  north  of  there  to  Paddock,  on  the  Niobrara 
River.  On  our  way  we  would  stop  occasionally, 
call  the  people  together,  and  preach  to  them. 
After  preaching  to  the  people  at  O'Neill  City, 
we  went  on  to  Paddock,  where  we  found  a  fam- 
ily of  Christian  people,  and  made  an  evening 
appointment  for  services  in  their  house.  At 
the  appointed  hour  a  few  of  the  citizens  came 
in,  and  I  preached  to  them  from  these  words, 
"I  counsel  thee  to  buy  of  me  gold  tried  in  the 
fire."  If  I  remember  correctly,  the  citizens  told 
us  this  was  the  first  sermon  preached  in  that 


272  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

community  and  the  first  religious  meeting  of  any 
kind  in  the  place.  After  making  due  inquiry 
about  the  country  and  the  religious  element  in 
the  neighborhood,  we  turned  our  faces  toward 
home,  inquiring  for  Methodist  people  as  we 
found  opportunity.  On  our  way  home,  we  had 
an  amusing  adventure  in  crossing  the  Elkhorn 
River.  There  having  been  a  great  deal  of  rain- 
fall, the  river  was  overflowing  its  banks  and 
running  around  the  bridge.  We  crossed  the 
bridge  at  the  little  town  of  Neligh  all  right; 
but  there  was  a  swift  current  on  the  other  side, 
between  the  bridge  and  the  dry  land;  not  so  deep, 
however,  but  that  we  thought  there  would  be 
no  trouble  in  driving  through  with  our  team. 
We  were  just  fairly  getting  into  the  current 
when  down  went  one  of  the  front  wheels  into  a 
hole,  throwing  us  over  the  wheel  into  the  water, 
with  our  hats,  coats,  and  all  our  baggage. 
Picking  myself  up,  I  saw  our  hats  moving  away 
with  the  swift  current,  and,  if  not  overtaken,  they 
would  soon  be  beyond  our  reach.  So  I  gave 
chase,  running  through  the  water  up  to  my  waist, 
while  Brother  Wolfe  was  fishing  the  other  things 
out  of  the  river.    The  day  was  so  warm  that  we 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  273 

had  been  riding  with  our  boots  off,  and  they, 
too,  were  in  the  water.  Another  thing  which 
added  interest  to  the  scene,  we  were  both  bald- 
headed.  There  we  were,  waist-deep  in  the  wa- 
ter, barefooted  and  bareheaded,  our  hats  floating 
away  and  I  running  after  them, — all  of  which 
made  the  scene  laughable  to  any  one  who  might 
be  looking  on.  The  hats  were  finally  overtaken 
and  brought  back,  the  other  things  were  res- 
cued, and  we  were  soon  home  in  dry  clothes, 
laughing  over  our  adventure. 

During  the  year  we  had  some  success,  and 
made  encouraging  advancement  along  the  bor- 
der-line. But  there  was  a  great  drawback  to  the 
work  in  the  shape  of  a  county-seat  fight.  Some 
of  our  members  lived  in  Neligh  and  some  in 
Oakdale,  two  towns  that  were  rivals  for  the 
county-seat.  This  county-seat  fight  grew  to 
such  a  fever-heat  that  it  not  only  caused  trouble 
in  the  Church,  but  came  near  separating  husband 
and  wife,  who  took  different  sides  in  the  strife. 
How  foolish  neighbors  are  to  let  such  trifling 
things  take  away  their  friendship  and  mar  the 
peace  of  the  entire  community !  But  how  much 
more  sinful  and  foolish  for  brethren  in  the 
18 


274  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

Church  to  be  divided  over  them!     But  such  is 
life  here  below. 

While  yet  on  this  charge,  another  affliction 
came  upon  us.  Shortly  after  our  first  child  was 
born,  a  small,  hard  substance  made  its  appear- 
ance in  Mrs.  Wells's  right  breast,  and  grew 
to  a  frightful  size.  It  became  evident  that  it 
must  soon  be  removed  with  the  knife,  or  she 
would  be  entirely  helpless.  Whether  she  could 
endure  a  surgical  operation  and  live,  we  knew 
not,  but  at  the  rate  the  tumor  was  growing  it 
was  plainly  to  be  seen  that  it  would  undermine 
her  health  and  destroy  her  life.  After  careful 
consideration  and  due  preparation,  we  went  to 
Norfolk  for  the  purpose  of  having  it  removed. 
And  what  a  dreadful  operation  it  was !  In  order 
to  perform  the  operation  she  was  kept  under 
the  influence  of  chloroform  for  three-quarters 
of  an  hour,  and  much  of  that  time  the  blood 
was  spurting  from  her  breast  at  a  fearful  rate. 
Though  she  seemed  in  much  agony  while  under- 
going the  operation,  the  doctors  said  that  I  suf- 
fered more  than  she  did.  Every  cut  of  the  knife 
sent  sharp  pains  throughout  my  body.  In  re- 
moving the  tumor,  most  of  the  breast  was  taken 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  275 

with  it,  leaving  a  frightful  wound.  After  it  was 
removed,  the  doctors  found  that  it  weighed 
three  pounds  and  three-quarters.  They  said, 
if  left  alone,  it  would  have  grown  to  be  of  greater 
weight  than  her  body,  and  in  this  way  taken 
her  life.  From  the  loss  of  blood  and  the  effects 
of  chloroform,  it  seemed  for  awhile  that  she 
could  hardly  recover.  Within  twelve  or  four- 
teen hours  after  the  operation,  however,  she  be- 
gan to  convalesce,  and  from  that  time  increased 
in  strength.  Within  about  two  weeks  she  was 
up  and  walking  about  the  house,  and  we  rode 
out  to  Brother  A.  M.  Cunningham's,  several 
miles  away,  where  we  spent  a  few  days,  and  then 
returned  to  our  charge. 

Once  more  the  Conference  year  closes,  and 
our  pastorate  ends  at  Oakdale.  On  account  of 
Mrs.  Wells's  poor  health,  we  did  not  go  to  Con- 
ference this  year.  Before  the  meeting  of  Con- 
ference the  presiding  elder  told  me  that,  if  I 
wished,  he  would  leave  us  at  Oakdale,  or,  if 
I  preferred,  he  would  send  us  to  Albion,  Boone 
County,  where  the  people  had  requested  that  I 
should  be  sent  to  them.  I  told  him  to  do  as 
he  thought  best,  and  I  would  be  pleased.    When 


276  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

returns  came  from  Conference,  we  saw  that  we 
were  assigned  to  the  Albion  Circuit.  I  notice, 
by  the  Minutes  of  the  Conference  of  1877,  that 
I  reported,  that  year,  one  hundred  and  fifty-nine 
dollars  on  salary  and  fifty-one  members  on  the 
entire  charge.  The  reader  will  here  observe 
how  small  the  amount  the  preacher  received  for 
his  labor  in  the  early  days  of  Methodism  in  Ne- 
braska. 

We  must  not  leave  without  giving  a  brief 
sketch  of  a  rain-and-wind  storm  while  at  this 
place.  Brothers  of  mine,  on  their  way  home 
from  the  gold-mines  in  the  Black  Hills,  called 
to  spend  a  few  days  with  us.  Rolling  their  cov- 
ered wagon  close  to  the  house,  two  or  three  of 
them  crawled  into  it  to  sleep  during  the  night. 
Some  time  in  the  night  the  wind  began  to  blow, 
and  continued  to  come  harder  and  harder  until 
it  seemed  that  it  would  sweep  everything  away. 
Soon  the  rain  and  hail  fell  at  a  most  frightful 
rate,  beating  against  the  house,  knocking  out 
the  windows,  and,  entering  the  room,  drenched 
the  floor  with  hail  and  water.  When  the  wind 
began  to  blow  the  hardest,  the  boys  in  the 
wagon  abandoned  it,  and  came  into  the  house. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  277 

After  the  storm  was  over,  we  were  anxious 
to  see  what  was  damaged.  Looking  out  for  the 
covered  wagon,  we  found  it  gone.  On  search- 
ing, and  finding  it  nowhere  near  the  house,  we 
went  down  town  in  the  direction  of  the  storm, 
and  there  it  was,  run  up  against  a  blacksmith- 
shop.  It  had  received  but  little  damage,  but  in 
its  course  had  stolen  somebody's  plow. 

Our  household  goods  were  again  loaded 
upon  a  wagon,  and  we  moved  to  Albion,  then 
a  small  town  in  Boone  County,  surrounded  with 
about  the  best  land  in  the  State  of  Nebraska. 
There  was  no  parsonage  on  the  charge,  and  we 
could  hardly  find  a  house  to  live  in.  We  finally 
rented  the  upper  part  of  the  house  of  Wm. 
Daniels,  the  county  sheriff,  until  we  could  build 
a  parsonage.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  we  found  many 
warm  friends,  who  spared  no  pains  to  make 
us  feel  comfortable  and  at  home.  Let  me  say 
of  Albion  and  the  surrounding  country  that,  in 
all  our  travels,  I  never  found  a  more  genial 
and  social  class  of  people,  where  the  rich  and 
the  poor  mingled  together  as  here,  and  where 
there  was  so  little  trouble  among  the  citizens 
of  the  entire  community.     "Behold,  how  good 


278  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

and   how  pleasant  it   is   for  brethren   to   dwell 
together  in  unity!" 

At  this  time  Albion  Circuit  embraced  Albion, 
Boone,  St.  Edwards,  Moore  Schoolhouse,  and 
the  Robinson  Schoolhouse  on  the  Cedar  River, 
and  part  of  the  time  I  had  an  appointment  north 
of  Albion,  making  six  in  all.  I  think  the  circuit 
was  as  large  as  any  I  have  ever  traveled.  The 
appointments  were  not  so  far  apart  as  on  other 
charges  I  had  served,  but  there  were  more  of 
them,  and  the  membership  was  badly  scattered 
over  the  country.  By  riding  many  miles  and 
preaching  three  times  each  Sunday,  I  managed 
to  give  each  appointment  preaching  every  two 
weeks.  I  kept  an  account  of  the  number  of 
miles  traveled  this  year,  going  to  and  from  my 
appointments,  and  it  was  somewhere  up  into 
the  thousands;  but,  as  the  account  is  lost,  I  am 
not  able  to  tell  just  how  many  thousand. 

Our  living  in  the  house  with  the  county 
sheriff  gave  us  some  amusing  things  to  remem- 
ber and  laugh  at,  one  of  which  I  must  relate: 
A  neighbor's  girl  was  accused  of  insanity,  and 
was  brought  to  the  sheriff's  house  and  kept 
here  until  she  could  have  her  trial  and  be  sent 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  279 

to  the  asylum.  Growing  much  worse  after  be- 
ing brought  here,  she  became  a  raving  maniac, 
and  was  inclined  to  fight  those  who  came  near 
her.  She  was  put  in  a  small  bedroom  by  her- 
self, and  rested  there  quietly.  As  we  were  help- 
ing to  care  for  her,  I  said  to  the  sheriff,  ''Now 
wife  and  I  will  go  to  bed,  and  if  you  need  us  for 
anything,  call,  and  we  will  help  you."  We  then 
went  to  our  room,  and  were  about  getting  into 
bed,  when  we  heard  the  slamming  of  a  door, 
and  in  an  instant  the  sheriff,  followed  by  his 
wife,  rushed  pellmell  up  the  stairway,  calling  for 
a  light,  and  acting  as  if  they  thought  the  poor, 
afflicted  girl  was  after  them  to  tear  them  in 
pieces.  It  seems  the  sheriff's  wife  had  gone  into 
the  girl's  room  with  a  lighted  lamp,  and  as  she 
was  turning  to  leave,  the  crazy  creature,  with 
all  her  might,  slammed  the  door  shut.  The 
quick  swinging  of  the  door  blew  out  the  light. 
The  woman,  supposing  that  the  girl  had  leaped 
from  her  bed,  blown  out  the  light,  and  shut 
the  door,  intending  to  tear  her  in  pieces,  was 
wonderfully  frightened,  and,  with  the  sheriff, 
ran  up  the  stairs  as  for  life.  Striking  a  light, 
we  went  down  again,  but  could  hear  nothing 


280  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

of  the  girl.  All  was  quiet  in  her  room.  The 
sheriff  told  his  wife  to  open  the  door  and  see 
what  she  was  doing;  but  the  wife  told  him  it 
was  his  business  to  look  after  her,  and  to  do  it 
himself,  as  he  was  sheriff.  The  sheriff  was  so 
modest  that  he  dared  not  go  into  the  room,  lest 
she  should  be  out  of  bed  in  her  night-clothes. 
Our  hired  girl  volunteered  to  go  into  the  room, 
and  found  the  girl  quietly  lying  in  her  bed,  with 
no  signs  of  having  been  out  of  it.  All  this  com- 
motion was  caused  by  the  girl's  reaching  out 
and  slamming  to  the  door. 

After  living  in  this  house  about  three 
months,  we  built  a  parsonage,  and  moved  into 
it.  Here  we  had  good  quarters  and  a  comfort- 
able house  for  a  frontier  preacher,  but  a  poor 
one  for  an  Eastern  man.  The  lumber  for  this 
parsonage  was  drawn  from  Columbus,  about 
forty  miles  distant.  Money  was  scarce,  and  it 
was  difficult  to  get  carpenters  to  work  on  the 
building,  so  I  turned  out  and  worked  on  it  my- 
self until  it  was  finished,  doing  about  as  much 
hard  work  as  any  other  man. 

During  the  spring  there  were  a  great  many 
thunderstorms  at  Albion  and  vicinity  that  did 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  281 

considerable  damage.  Soon  after  moving  into 
our  new  parsonage,  a  storm  visited  the  country, 
accompanied  by  a  heavy  rainfall  and  tremendous 
peals  of  thunder.  After  a  very  sharp  clap  of 
thunder  men  were  seen  hurrying  by,  as  if  greatly 
excited.  On  inquiry,  we  learned  that  the  light- 
ning had  killed  one  of  our  neighbor's  girls.  As 
soon  as  possible,  Mrs.  Wells  and  I  made  our 
way  through  the  water  and  mud  to  the  house, 
only  to  find  the  girl  dead  and  the  family  almost 
wild  with  grief.  The  girl  was  a  stout,  rugged 
young  woman.  She  had  just  finished  a  large 
washing,  and  lain  down  on  a  lounge  near  the 
wall  to  rest  when  she  was  struck  by  the  light- 
ning and  instantly  killed.  The  family  dragged 
her  out  of  doors  into  the  mud  and  water,  hoping 
to  bring  her  to  life,  but  in  vain;  her  soul  had 
taken  its  everlasting  flight. 

As  there  was  yet  good  Government  land  to 
be  had  not  far  away,  I  concluded  it  would  be  a 
good  thing  to  take  a  timber  claim,  and,  while 
building  up  the  Church,  I  could  secure  a  hun- 
dred and  sixty  acres  of  land.  Selecting  a  good 
claim,  I  went  on  it,  and  began  improvement  by 
plowing  around  it  with  my  own  team,  and  hired 


282  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

some  of  the  brethren  to  do  the  necessary  break- 
ing-up.  While  camping  on  the  claim,  my 
horses  got  frightened,  broke  loose,  and  left  me 
one  night,  a  little  after  dark.  A  young  man 
who  was  in  camp  with  me  had  two  good  horses, 
which  we  mounted  and  started  in  pursuit  of  the 
runaways.  As  the  night  was  very  dark,  we 
thought  it  useless  to  follow  them  far,  and  turned 
back  to  the  camp.  Just  before  reaching  our 
wagons,  we  saw  something  coming  over  the 
hills  toward  us  that  looked  like  a  wild,  vicious 
animal.  When  we  stopped  to  look  at  it,  it 
would  stop;  and  when  we  moved,  it  would  move. 
Having  no  weapon  with  which  to  defend  our- 
selves, we  urged  our  horses  toward  the  camp, 
not  wishing  to  come  in  contact  with  a  vicious 
animal  in  the  dark.  On  going  in  search  of  my 
ponies  the  next  morning,  I  went  to  the  place 
where  we  had  seen  the  frightful  animal,  and  care- 
fully examined  the  ground  for  signs  of  the  beast, 
only  to  learn  that  it  was  a  bush  that  had  been 
set  in  the  ground  by  the  surveyor  while  running 
out  the  lines  of  the  land. 

The  young  man,   my   companion   in   camp, 
accompanied  me  for  several  miles  in  hunting  for 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  283 

my  ponies,  and  then  turned  back,  leaving  me  to 
foot  it  alone.  Following  their  trail  through  the 
grass  for  about  ten  miles,  I  found  them  at  last 
at  the  house  of  a  farmer,  who  was  working  one 
of  them  at  the  plow.  Getting  possession  of  the 
ponies,  I  was  not  long  in  reaching  camp.  The 
next  day  I  drove  home,  glad  to  find  a  shelter 
from  the  rain  and  cold  wind. 

Before  leaving  Albion,  I  paid  the  brethren 
for  doing  the  necessary  work  on  my  claim  in 
order  to  hold  it.  After  a  short  absence,  I  wrote 
them  to  be  sure  and  do  the  work  in  time.  They 
answered  that,  if  they  lived,  the  work  would  be 
done.  The  time  passed,  and  the  work  was  not 
done;  neither  were  they  dead;  but  we  lost  our 
one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of  land  all  the  same. 
We  lost  the  money  we  had  paid  them,  and  the 
claim  besides.  Perhaps  it  was  for  the  best  that 
we  should  not  own  this  land;  at  least,  we  are 
satisfied  with  what  we  have,  and  hope  those 
brethren  have  long  since  repented  of  their  neg- 
lect, as  we  have  long  since  forgiven  them  the 
debt. 

On  this  circuit,  as  on  all  others  we  had  served 
up  to  this  time,  there  was  no  church  building. 


284  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

There  were  no  church-buildings  on  this  work  of 
any  denomination.  Some  of  our  appointments 
were  in  sod-houses,  there  being  only  two  frame 
schoolhouses  on  the  charge  while  we  were  here, 
one  at  Albion  and  one  at  St.  Edwards.  The 
Congregationalists  were  on  the  field,  but  they 
had  no  church-building.  A  large  majority  of  the 
people  lived  in  dug-outs  and  sod-houses.  In  fact, 
there  were  few  houses  of  any  other  kind  in  the 
country  outside  the  little  towns.  One  of  our 
brethren  in  the  Cedar  Valley  lived  in  a  sod- 
house,  a  description  of  which  may  be  of  interest 
to  the  reader.  The  entire  building  was  thirty- 
six  feet  in  length  and  twelve  feet  wide,  with  but 
one  room.  It  contained  two  families,  two  cook- 
stoves,  two  tables,  and  five  beds.  The  walls  were 
about  six  feet  high,  the  roof  was  composed  of 
poles,  brush,  and  dirt,  and  it  had  a  dirt  floor. 
The  two  families  cooked,  ate,  and  slept  in  this 
one  room,  and  many  times  the  preacher  and  his 
family  were  there,  and  well  entertained,  making- 
three  families,  all  in  one  room.  Those  sod- 
houses  were  very  comfortable  houses  to  live  in, 
when  there  was  not  too  much  dirt  falling  down 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  285 

upon  and  into  things,  and  when  the  rain  did  not 
prevent  the  fleas  from  sleeping  out  of  doors. 

At  this  time,  on  the  Albion  Charge,  fuel  was 
scarce  and  the  most  difficult  to  get  of  all  the 
other  necessaries  of  life.  As  there  was  no  coal 
in  the  country  nearer  than  Columbus,  forty  miles 
away,  we  depended  on  wood  altogether,  and  this 
was  drawn  from  the  Cedar  bluffs,  some  nineteen 
miles  away.  Notwithstanding  this,  we  never  had 
so  great  an  abundance  of  wood  before,  and  of  so 
good  a  quality,  as  at  this  place.  The  brethren 
made  a  "bee,"  and  drew  up  a  great  pile  of  good 
oak-wood,  much  of  which  warmed  us  twice.  Of 
course,  this  wood  was  given  (?)  to  us  on  salary; 
but  it  was  better  than  money,  for  we  could  not 
keep  warm  with  money,  and  money  would  hardly 
hire  men  to  draw  wood  so  far  in  cold  weather. 
This  to  us  was  a  pleasant  and,  to  some  extent, 
a  profitable  year,  there  being  a  considerable  in- 
crease of  membership  on  the  charge. 

Soon  after  moving  into  the  new  parsonage 
mentioned  above,  Miss  Cunningham,  a  young 
lady  living  with  us,  was  married  to  a  Mr.  Smith, 
of  Albion,  at  which  time  we  had  quite  a  notice- 


286  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

able  experience.  Mr.  Smith  was  one  of  the  first 
settlers  in  the  county,  and,  being  a  blacksmith, 
was  well  known  throughout  the  country.  As 
there  was  a  general  invitation  for  all  to  come 
to  the  wedding,  a  multitude  attended.  In  con- 
nection with  the  wedding  the  brethren  an- 
nounced a  donation  party  for  the  pastor,  which 
called  to  the  parsonage  many  more  than  could 
find  sitting-room  in  the  house.  As  the  upper 
part  of  the  house  was  in  one  room,  the  wedding 
took  place  there,  and  it  was  so  overburdened 
with  people  that  the  floor  began  to  give  way, 
causing  many  to  leave  the  room,  which  saved  the 
floor  from  falling.  In  this  crowded  place  the 
ceremony  was  performed,  though  the  people 
were  almost  breathless  because  of  the  trembling 
floor.  Supper  was  served  by  passing  the  plates 
from  one  to  the  other  while  the  guests  were 
standing. 

The  Conference  year  is  ended,  and  the  family 
and  I  start  for  Beatrice,  where  the  Conference 
is  to  meet.  Again,  with  our  ponies,  we  cross  the 
country,  and  visit  our  own  folks  who  live  near 
Beatrice.  While  here  I  took  to  shaking  with 
the  ague,  and  failed  to  reach  the  seat  of  Confer- 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  287 

ence  until  Sunday,  almost  the  last  day  of  the 
session. 

While  at  home  and  shaking  with  the  ague, 
we  were  halting  between  two  ways  of  turning. 
Our  friends  at  home  wanted  me  to  locate,  and 
I  thought  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  come 
home  at  least  one  year,  and  improve  our  land, 
and  so  add  something  to  our  support  while 
preaching.  I  finally  took  a  supernumerary  rela- 
tion, and  was  left  without  an  appointment. 

This  year  I  reported  $300  on  salary,  and  a 
hundred  and  twelve  members  on  the  charge. 

Now  I  felt  lost  without  a  charge,  and  hardly 
knew  what  to  do  with  myself  on  Sunday. 


CHAPTER    XII 

Move  to  the  Farm— Build  Our  Own  House— Work  on  the 
Farm— Go  to  Conference— Go  Home  with  a  Drunken 
Woman— Return  to  the  Pastorate— Appointed  to 
the  Schuyler  Circuit  and  Work  there— Lose  An- 
other Child— Overflowing    of   the  Platte  River. 

A  good  team  was  engaged,  and  I  went  after 
our  goods,  all  the  way  to  my  recent  charge  and 
back  alone.  The  round  trip  by  wagon-road  was 
fully  two  hundred  miles,  and  half  of  this  distance 
with  a  heavy  load.  The  brethren  were  wonder- 
fully surprised  to  learn  that  I  had  come  after  our 
goods  to  move  them  home;  for  they  fully  ex- 
pected me  to  return  and  serve  them  another  year. 
The  goods  were  soon  placed  in  the  wagon,  and 
I  began  my  return  trip  to  the  farm.  After  eight 
days'  absence  and  seven  hard  days'  drive,  I 
reached  home,  there  to  remain  for  at  least  one 
year.  Storing  our  goods  in  a  brother's  granary 
and  house,  I  went  to  work  building  a  house  of 
my  own.  As  I  had  but  little  money,  the  work 
must  be  done  with  my  own  hands. 

Having  served  an  apprenticeship  at  the  car- 

288 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  289 

penter  trade  in  helping  to  build  parsonages,  I 
was  able  to  do  my  own  work  on  the  house,  and  it 
was  a  pretty  good  job  for  a  jackknife  carpenter. 
I  worked  daily  early  and  late  that  the  house 
might  be  ready  to  occupy  before  cold  weather  set 
in.  Inside  of  six  weeks  it  was  so  nearly  com- 
pleted that  we  moved  into  it,  and  settled  down 
in  our  own  house  for  the  winter.  By  constant 
hard  labor  from  the  time  of  beginning  to  build 
until  moving,  I  lost  about  forty  pounds  of  adi- 
pose. 

Having  but  little  money,  we  were  pinched 
for  the  necessaries  of  life  during  the  winter,  and, 
having  raised  no  grain,  I  picked  corn  on  the 
shares  to  get  feed  for  my  horses.  After  worrying 
through  the  winter  the  best  we  could,  we  were 
greatly  rejoiced  at  the  approach  of  spring,  when, 
with  all  my  strength,  I  began  to  improve  the 
farm.  My  two  small  ponies  were  too  light  for 
breaking  prairie  alone,  so  I  announced  that  I 
would  trade  my  buggy  for  a  horse,  thinking  that, 
by  putting  one  large  horse  with  the  ponies,  it 
would  make  a  pretty  good  team.  A  neighbor 
of  mine,  and  another  man  who  was  a  stranger  to 
me,  hearing  that  I  had  offered  my  buggy  for  a 
19 


290  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

horse,  came  to  my  house  with  an  old  gray  horse 
which  they  offered  for  the  buggy,  provided  I 
would  give  them  ten  dollars  to  boot,  which  I 
refused  to  do.  As  the  horse  was  very  poor,  I 
hesitated  about  trading  at  all.  But  they  said 
it  only  needed  a  little  care  to  put  it  in  good  flesh; 
that  it  had  made  a  trip  on  the  plains,  where  it 
got  no  grain,  which  was  the  cause  of  its  poor 
appearance.  Knowing  but  little  of  the  man, 
yet  I  was  foolish  enough  to  think  he  would  not 
cheat  me  out  of  my  buggy,  and  I  traded  with 
him.  After  working  the  horse  one-half  day,  I 
found  that  he  was  an  old,  worthless,  crippled 
creature,  not  worth  feeding,  and  I  gave  him  away 
that  he  might  be  taken  from  the  place. 

Here  is  one  case  where  a  neighbor  took  ad- 
vantage of  my  ignorance  in  regard  to  horseflesh 
and  of  my  confidence  in  him,  and  cheated  me  out 
of  about  one  hundred  dollars  by  lying  to  me. 
Up  to  this  time  I  thought  that,  as  I  was  a  poor 
preacher,  surely  my  neighbors  at  least  would  not 
take  advantage  of  my  confidence  in  them,  and 
lie  me  out  of  so  much  property.  After  all,  this 
was  a  good  lesson,  though  dearly  bought;  for 
since  then  I  have  looked  out  for  such  liars  and 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  291 

cut-throats,  and  have  not  allowed  them  to  take 
me  in  so  easily.  I  learned  at  least  that  I  was  not 
a  success  as  a  horse-trader. 

Another  horse  was  bought,  and  put  with  the 
ponies,  and  I  went  to  work  turning  over  the  sod 
at  a  rapid  rate.  During  the  summer  I  broke  up 
about  forty  acres  and  put  a  part  of  it  into  sod- 
corn,  doing  all  the  work  myself,  besides  many 
other  little  tasks  about  the  farm,  and  preaching 
to  the  people  on  Sundays. 

Working  so  hard  without  being  used  to  it, 
brought  on  a  fit  of  the  ague,  which  laid  me  on 
the  shelf  for  several  days;  but  I  was  soon  out  and 
at  labor  again.  By  putting  in  a  very  hard  year's 
work,  my  land  was  now  in  shape  to  be  of  some 
financial  benefit. 

While  I  was  at  home  on  the  farm,  the  Meth- 
odists held  a  camp-meeting  on  the  Little  Blue 
River  bottom,  a  few  miles  south  of  the  little  town 
of  Edgar,  to  which  we  went.  Having  no  tent,  a 
header  box,  that  was  made  for  drawing  grain 
from  a  header  to  the  stack,  was  fitted  up  for  the 
occasion.  Putting  this  on  a  wagon,  and  stretch- 
ing a  cloth  over  it  for  a  roof,  we  moved  to  the 
camp-ground.     By  making  a  ladder  on  which  to 


292  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

climb  into  the  temporary  house,  we  had  a  com- 
fortable place  during  the  meeting.  At  the  close 
of  the  meeting,  to  get  ready  for  moving  home 
we  had  only  to  hook  the  horses  to  the  wagon, 
and  drive  away.  Though  the  country  was  new 
and  the  people  poor,  we  had  a  good  and  profit- 
able meeting. 

Conference  time  came,  we  rented  our  farm 
for  fifty  dollars,  and  prepared  for  another  move. 
This  year  Lincoln  was  the  seat  of  Conference, 
and,  as  usual,  we  drove  there  with  the  ponies. 
Reaching  the  seat  of  Conference,  we  were  as- 
signed to  a  Mr.  Cole's  for  entertainment,  and 
found  a  very  pleasant  home  during  the  Confer- 
ence session. 

One  ridiculous  incident,  which  took  place  at 
this  time,  I  must  relate,  and  that  to  the  shame 
of  the  city  of  Lincoln.  One  day,  while  we  were 
at  trie  dinner-table,  a  woman  came  to  the  door 
and  made  a  complaint  about  something  that  had 
taken  place  at  her  home.  She  was  present  but  a 
short  time  when  we  discovered  that  she  was  so 
much  under  the  influence  of  liquor  as  to  be 
crazy,  and  hardly  able  to  stand  alone.  After 
talking  a  few  minutes,  she  flopped  down  on  the 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  293 

doorstep  and  lay  there  as  if  dead.  The  lady  of 
the  house  tried  to  persuade  her  to  get  up  and 
go  home,  but  could  do  nothing  with  her.  Seeing 
that  something  must  be  done,  I  went  out  and 
told  her  to  get  up  and  go  home;  but  still  she 
made  no  movement,  at  which  I  told  her  if  she 
did  n't  leave,  I  should  call  the  police  and  have 
her  taken  away.  At  the  threat  of  calling  the 
police  she  made  an  attempt  to  rise,  but  could  not. 
By  assisting  her,  she  was  enabled  to  rise  to  her 
feet,  but  could  not  walk  alone;  so,  taking  her  by 
the  arm,  I  led  her  to  her  home,  which  was  but 
a  short  distance  away.  The  reader  can  have  but 
little  idea  how  mortified  I  felt  leading  home  a 
miserable,  drunken  woman,  and  passing  respect- 
able people,  who  knew  nothing  of  the  circum- 
stances. As  soon  as  she  was  in  her  own  room 
in  a  chair,  I  left  the  house  about  as  fast  as  a 
preacher  ever  gets  away  from  any  place,  mean- 
while looking  about  to  see  if  any  one  was  watch- 
ing me.  Shame  on  a  town,  State,  or  Govern- 
ment that  licenses  the  selling  of  the  vile  stuff 
that  ruins  the  lives  and  homes  of  its  citizens !  I 
can  not  see  why  it  is  not  just  as  reasonable  to 
license  any  other  kind  of  murder  as  that  of  killing 
with  alcohol. 


294  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

This  year  I  was  appointed  to  the  Schuyler 
work,  in  Colfax  County,  another  very  large  cir- 
cuit, but  of  considerable  strength.  Again  we 
journeyed  about  one  hundred  miles,  with  our 
goods  on  a  wagon,  stopping  at  night  wherever 
the  people  would  take  us  in.  On  reaching  our 
work,  we  found  friends  to  welcome  us  to  our  new 
field  of  labor  and  to  their  homes.  Here  let  me 
call  the  attention  of  all  Methodists  who  read 
these  lines  to  the  importance  of  Churches  kindly 
receiving  their  new  pastor  when  he  first  reaches 
his  charge.  Remember  that  he  is  human,  and 
needs  your  sympathy  and  kindly  greetings.  Per- 
haps you  do  receive  him  kindly;  but  if  you  show 
it  in  no  way,  how  is  he  to  know  that  he  is  wel- 
come? In  some  way  let  him  know  it,  or  he  may 
think  to  the  contrary.  By  not  making  his  com- 
ing among  you  pleasant  at  first,  you  may  cripple 
him  in  his  usefulness  among  you  for  all  time  to 
come.  How  many  times  our  hearts  have  been 
made  to  ache  by  those  who  ought  to  have  been 
comforters  and  supporters,  while  we  were  yet 
strangers  on  the  charge ! 

At  Schuyler  we  found  a  good-sized  parsonage 
and    a    small    church-building.      This    was    my 


A.    FRONTIER    LIFE  295 

eighth  year  in  the  Conference,  and  my  first 
charge  that  possessed  a  Methodist  church 
building.  At  the  Leigh  appointment,  however, 
there  is  another  church  edifice;  so,  you  see,  we 
are  coming  up  in  the  world,  or  rather  getting 
away  from  the  frontier,  and  entering  into  Meth- 
odist churches.  At  this  time  the  Schuyler  Cir- 
cuit embraced  Schuyler,  Leigh,  and  two  other 
appointments  in  schoolhouses.  The  work  was 
large  and  difficult  to  manage,  with  a  great  deal 
of  travel  through  the  cold  and  heat. 

One  Sunday,  while  going  to  one  of  my  ap- 
pointments, I  overtook  a  German  who  was  trav- 
eling on  the  highway,  and  invited  him  to  ride. 
Soon  after  he  had  taken  his  seat,  I  plainly  saw 
that  he  was  under  the  influence  of  liquor.  Gaz- 
ing intently  at  me,  he  asked  if  I  was  a  preacher, 
and,  on  being  answered  affirmatively,  he  said, 
"Vot  beez  you?  a  Catolic?"  I  said,  "No,  I  am 
a  Methodist  minister,"  to  which  he  responded, 
"I  beez  a  Metodist  too."  I  could  not  surely  tell 
whether  he  was  a  Methodist  or  not,  but  I  knew 
his  breath  did  not  smell  like  one. 

Soon  after  we  were  thoroughly  settled,  we 
engaged  in  a  revival  work  at  Schuyler,  where 


296  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

we  had  a  good  meeting,  and  the  Church  was 
considerably  strengthened  spiritually,  numer- 
ically, and  financially.  At  this  time  Schuyler 
was  largely  a  Bohemian  town,  and  handled  more 
beer  and  whisky  than  almost  anything  else. 
There  being  eight  saloons  and  but  four  churches, 
it  was  a  hard  town  to  work  in,  and  a  very  un- 
pleasant place  to  live  in,  because  of  those  drunk- 
ard-manufacturing shops. 

This  year  I  was  greatly  afflicted  with  a  sore 
throat,  but  continued  to  travel  and  preach  three 
times  a  day,  thinking  but  little  of  it.  I  had  pre- 
viously injured  my  throat  by  hard  singing,  and 
it  was  now  beginning  to  affect  and  weaken  my 
speaking  powers.  How  easy  for  a  man  to  injure 
his  usefulness  by  doing  too  much! 

Another  sad  and  severe  affliction  came  upon 
us  while  here,  in  the  sickness  and  death  of  an- 
other dear  babe.  Some  few  months  after  settling 
in  Schuyler,  our  child,  then  about  one  year  old, 
was  taken  very  sick,  and  we  thought  it  could  live 
but  a  few  days;  but  it  lingered  along  for  several 
weeks,  when  on  the  fourth  day  of  August,  1880, 
its  little  soul  left  the  afflicted  body  and  returned 
to  God  who  gave  it.     Again  the  cloud  of  afiflic- 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  297 

tion  hung  heavily  over  our  home;  but  the  Lord 
blessed  us  in  our  afflictions. 

The  lamb  we  loved  and  cherished  so, 

Its  wings  it  did  unfold, 
And  went  to  where  all  children  go, 

Up  to  the  land  of  gold. 
In  Schuyler's  Cemetery,  there  lies 

Its  little  form  alone, 
Although  its  soul  in  Paradise 

Doth  dwell  around  the  throne. 

Now  we  have  two  little  boys  in  heaven,  await- 
ing our  approach. 

Some  very  pleasant  incidents  cheered  us 
while  we  were  here,  which  we  shall  long  remem- 
ber, and  they  will  be  as  bright  spots  in  our  lives 
as  long  as  we  live.  One  I  must  mention.  The 
brethren  saw  how  much  I  needed  books  (for  as 
yet  I  had  but  few),  and  made  me  a  present  of  a 
work  entitled  "Universal  Knowledge,"  which 
was  a  help  to  me  in  my  work,  and  which  I  esteem 
more  highly  than  if  received  in  any  other  man- 
ner. Then,  there  were  incidents  that  were  not 
so  pleasant,  one  of  which  I  will  notice.  In  look- 
ing over  the  charge  I  heard  of  certain  persons 
who  were  holding  Church  letters  from  the  Meth- 
odist Episcopal  Church.     In  company  with  one 


298  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

of  the  class-leaders,  I  called  on  those  persons 
and  persuaded  them  to  give  me  their  letters.  I 
felt,  in  accomplishing  this,  that  I  had  'done  a 
good  day's  work.  Telling  some  of  the  brethren 
about  it,  I  noticed  that  they  smiled  as  much  as  to 
say,  "Well,  you  've  got  an  elephant  on  your 
hands."  In  a  short  time  word  came  to  me  that  I 
had  better  look  after  my  new  members,  for  they 
were  drinking,  swearing,  and  fighting.  Then  I 
wished  they  were  where  I  had  first  found  them. 
Taking  the  class-leader  who  had  accompanied 
me  when  I  received  the  letters,  I  went  to  the  par- 
ties and  told  them  my  errand,  requesting  them 
to  repent,  which  they  refused  to  do.  I  then  told 
them  they  should  be  brought  to  trial  and  ex- 
pelled, or  they  might  withdraw  from  the  Church. 
After  spending  nearly  half  a  day  with  them,  I 
succeeded  in  persuading  them  to  withdraw  and 
save  further  trouble.  After  obtaining  their  con- 
sent to  withdraw,  I  went  home,  feeling  much 
better  than  when  I  had  received  their  letters. 
From  that  time  to  this  I  have  not  been  so  ready 
to  hunt  up  old  Church  letters;  and  yet  I  suppose 
we  ought  to  hunt  them  up  and  take  them,  even 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  299 

though  next  day  required  to  expel  the  persons 
presenting  them. 

This  year  ended,  and  we  were  able  to  report 
considerable  prosperity  on  the  charge.  For  the 
first  time  in  my  ministry  I  could  take  the  cars  at 
home  and  ride  in  them  all  the  way  to  the  seat  of 
Conference.  By  this  time,  however,  railroads 
were  getting  common,  and  ministers  on  the  way 
to  Conference  came  in  cars  from  nearly  all  parts 
of  the  State.  It  is  wonderful  how  rapidly  this 
country  has  developed  within  the  last  few  years, 
and  how  people  by  thousands  have  moved  in  and 
occupied  the  land,  until  there  is  not  a  vacant 
piece  to  be  found  anywhere  in  all  the  wild  coun- 
try I  traveled  over  a  few  years  ago! 

This  year,  1880,  Conference  was  held  at  Ne- 
braska City,  a  beautiful  town  on  the  Missouri 
River.  The  Minutes  of  the  Conference  shows 
one  hundred  and  ten  members  for  Schuyler 
Charge,  and  $593  on  salary.  At  this  Conference, 
Schuyler  was  made  a  station,  and  I  was  returned 
for  another  year.  For  the  first  time  I  am  now 
a  stationed  preacher,  exempt  from  riding 
through  the  cold  as  before.    So  far  as  traveling  is 


300  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

concerned,  it  was  by  far  the  easiest  year  of  my 
ministry  up  to  this  time.  Of  course,  I  had  to  do 
more  reading  and  make  greater  preparation,  but 
I  had  much  more  time  in  which  to  do  it. 

This  Conference  year  was  one  of  trial  and 
discouragement  to  me.  My  throat  became  so 
sore  that  the  doctors  told  me  I  would  have  to 
abandon  the  ministry  altogether;  so  I  concluded 
to  locate  and  go  home.  During  the  winter  sea- 
son there  was  a  great  deal  of  sickness  and  a  num- 
ber of  deaths,  and  being  called  upon  to  attend 
so  many  funeral  services,  I  preached  more  fre- 
quently than  usual.  The  winter  was  very  stormy 
and  exceedingly  cold,  with  a  heavy  snow  on  the 
ground  nearly  all  the  season,  and  the  winds, 
blowing  much  of  the  time  from  the  north,  added 
to  the  unpleasantness.  During  the  most  severe 
storms  of  winter  I  was  called  upon  to  attend 
funerals  far  out  in  the  country,  and  this  was  wear- 
ing on  my  constitution  and  injurious  to  my 
throat.  Informing  my  presiding  elder  of  my  in- 
tention to  locate,  he  persuaded  me  to  try  it 
another  year;  so  when  Conference  convened,  I 
reported  for  duty.  This  year  $346  was  reported 
on  salary  and  forty-nine  members  in  full  connec- 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  301 

tion.  Here  was  a  station  with  only  forty-nine 
members,  and  yet  they  kept  the  preacher  from 
starving,  and  even  from  going  hungry. 

While  at  this  j  lace  I  was  blessed  with  a 
goodly  number  of  wedding  fees;  but  there  was 
one  which  turned  out  even  worse  than  the  one 
previously  mentioned,  which  I  must  not  pass  un- 
noticed. The  bride's  father  came  to  the  parson- 
age, and  requested  me  to  come  to  his  house  in 
the  evening  and  perform  the  ceremony.  At  the 
appointed  hour  I  reported  for  duty.  After  con- 
siderable delay,  the  couple  came  upon  the  floor, 
and  were  joined  together  as  husband  and  wife. 
After  the  ceremony  the  company  was  treated  to 
cake,  etc.,  and  we  had  a  good  social  time.  When 
the  time  came  to  go  home,  I  was  kindly  waited 
upon,  and  took  my  leave,  but  without  a  fee. 
Thinking  that  the  young  man  had  forgotten  it, 
I  gave  it  but  little  attention,  supposing  he  would 
hand  it  to  me  at  some  other  time.  But  I  am  still 
waiting;  for  the  young  man  has  not  yet  so  much 
as  made  mention  of  it  to  me. 

There  is  something  very  peculiar  about  the 
two  weddings  where  I  received  no  fee.  The  first 
couple  lived  together  but  a  short  time,  and  sepa- 


3<32  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

rated.  Not  long  after  the  second  couple  were 
married  they  were  separated  by  the  husband's 
being  sent  to  the  penitentiary  for  stealing.  I 
have  married  a  great  many  couples;  but  these  are 
the  only  two  that  failed  to  give  a  fee,  and,  with 
two  exceptions,  the  only  ones,  as  far  as  I  know, 
who  have  turned  out  badly  in  their  married  rela- 
tion. "A  man's  sin  will  find  him  out."  Let  the 
young  men  who  read  these  lines  take  warning. 

The  town  of  Schuyler  is  situated  in  the  great 
Platte  Valley,  and  at  times  is  completely  sur- 
rounded with  water  and  entirely  cut  off  from  all 
communication  with  the  surrounding  country. 
In  our  second  spring  at  the  place  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  rain  and  melting  of  the  snow,  which 
caused  the  Platte  to  overflow  its  banks  and  do 
much  damage  to  the  farming  community  and  not 
a  little  to  the  town. 

One  evening,  when  the  snow  was  fast  melt- 
ing and  filling  the  creeks  and  ravines  with  water, 
we  received  word  from  Columbus — a  town  above 
on  the  river — warning  us  to  look  out  for  the 
flood,  as  it  was  coming.  When  the  news  reached 
our  town,  there  was  a  great  hustling  among 
the  farmers  to  secure  their  families  and  stock. 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  303 

The  people  in  town  were  wonderfuly  excited, 
and  many  of  them  left  their  homes  for  places  of 
safety  on  higher  ground  and  in  larger  buildings, 
which  for  them  was  a  wise  move;  for  during  that 
night  the  flood  came.  As  there  was  a  great  deal 
of  ice  in  the  river,  the  oncoming  tide  could  be 
heard  for  miles.  While  yet  more  than  two  miles 
away,  we  could  hear  the  rumbling  waters  and 
grinding  ice,  that  made  a  frightful  roaring  as  it 
came.  Then,  to  add  to  the  terror  of  the  mighty 
roaring,  the  farmers  were  yelling  at  their  cattle 
while  driving  them  into  a  safe  place.  The  cattle 
were  bellowing  as  if  wonderfully  frightened,  the 
sheep  were  bleating,  hogs  squealing,  and  dogs 
howling  and  barking,  adding  so  greatly  to  the 
confusion  and  uproar,  that  for  awhile  it  seemed 
as  if  the  town  people,  appalled  with  fear,  would 
take  flight  to  the  high  prairie.  In  the  midst  of 
the  confusion,  I  made  preparation  for  cutting  a 
way  for  my  family  through  the  roof,  if  need  be, 
and  then  retired  and  slept  until  morning,  suppos- 
ing that,  if  necessary,  we  would  be  awakened  in 
time  to  make  our  escape.  On  awaking  the  next 
morning,  we  learned  that  the  water  had  advanced 
into  the  town,  and  run  down  through  the  main 


304  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

street,  and  that  it  came  within  one  block  of  the 
parsonage. 

Though  it  flowed  in  different  places  through 
the  town,  there  was  little  damage  done,  only  a 
few  small  houses  having  been  turned  around  by 
the  large  pieces  of  ice  which  struck  them  as  they 
passed.  But  there  were  thousands  of  dollars 
lost  through  the  flood  among  the  farmers.  Some 
farms  were  almost  entirely  washed  away,  or  cov- 
ered with  sand  so  deep  as  to  ruin  them  alto- 
gether. By  morning  the  water  had  fallen  con- 
siderably, and  some  of  the  farmers  returned  to 
their  homes.  One  man,  who  lived  close  to  the 
river,  but  on  a  little  ridge  higher  than  the  land 
around  him,  took  his  family  home  and  came  to 
town  to  work,  leaving  them  alone.  In  a  day  or 
two,  in  the  evening,  the  waters  overflowed  the 
valley  from  bluff  to  bluff,  and  again  surrounded 
this  family.  The  stream  was  full  of  ice,  and  it 
was  impossible  to  send  a  boat  to  rescue  them. 
There  was  the  mother,  with  her  little  children, 
on  a  narrow  strip  of  land,  the  water  extending 
more  than  a  mile  on  either  side  of  her  little  house, 
almost  touching  the  building,  and  one  piece  of 
ice  did  slightly  strike  against  it.     Her  husband 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  305 

was  almost  wild  as  he  looked  across  the  waters 
at  the  lamp  in  his  own  window,  expecting  every 
moment  to  see  the  light  extinguished  and  his 
wife  and  children  swept  away  by  the  flood.  As 
long  as  her  light  could  be  seen,  it  was  known 
that  she  was  safe.  At  the  dawning  of  morning 
her  house  could  still  be  seen,  and,  as  the  waters 
were  going  down,  we  knew  there  was  no  further 
danger.  One  family  left  the  house  with  a  barrel 
of  lime  in  it,  which,  when  the  water  entered,  in 
slacking,  took  fire,  and  consumed  the  building 
and  all  its  contents,  leaving  the  family  without 
a  home. 

Conference  ended,  and  I  was  returned  to  the 
Albion  Charge,  which  I  had  left  three  years  be- 
fore— just  three  years  to  a  day  from  the  time  I 
left  it  until  I  returned  to  take  charge  of  the  work 
again. 


Before  laying  aside  my  pen,  and  bidding 
adieu  to  my  readers,  I  must  give  a  little  sketch 
of  our  experience  in  a  storm  while  spending  the 
second  year  on  the  farm.  After  serving  Albion 
the  second  time,  we  spent  another  year  at  home. 

In  the  year  1883,  we  planted  wheat,  barley, 


306  A    FRONTIER   LIFE 

and  corn,  and  they  were  growing  nicely,  giving 
promise  of  an  early  and  abundant  harvest.  It 
seemed  that  better  prospects  for  crops  were 
never  seen  than  we  had  at  that  time,  and  it  con- 
tinued so  until  the  seventeenth  of  June,  when 
everything  in  the  shape  of  grain  was  swept  away. 
In  the  morning  I  went  around  the  field  of  grow- 
ing grain  with  my  brother,  and  he  remarked  that 
he  had  never  seen  such  a  heavy  crop  of  small 
grain.  In  the  evening  a  dark  cloud  appeared  in 
the  southwest,  and  seemed  to  be  coming  rapidly 
toward  our  place.  Our  children  were  nearly 
three  miles  from  the  farm  at  school,  and  it  was 
about  time  for  them  to  be  on  their  way  home. 
The  clouds  continued  to  look  so  angry  and 
threatening  that  it  was  thought  best  to  take  a 
horse  and  buggy  and  go  after  them.  Hastily  a 
horse  was  hitched  to  a  light  rig,  and  I  went  for- 
ward and  met  them  about  half  way  home,  much 
frightened  by  the  coming  storm.  Taking  them 
into  the  buggy,  I  turned  the  horse  about  in  the 
direction  of  home.  Seeing  that  the  storm  was 
fast  approaching  and  roaring  tremendously,  I 
put  the  horse  to  his  utmost  speed,  determined,  if 
possible,  to  reach  home  before  the  storm  over- 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  307 

took  us,  and  succeeded.  Just  as  the  children 
were  entering  the  house  and  I  the  barn  with  the 
horses,  the  storm  struck,  and  the  hail  began  to 
fall  and  bound  as  high  as  a  man's  head,  continu- 
ing to  come  thicker  and  faster  until  the  air  was 
full  of  hailstones,  many  of  them  more  than  seven 
inches  in  circumference.  The  wind  blew  harder 
and  harder,  and  one  of  the  mightiest  wind  and 
hail  storms  that  it  was  ever  my  lot  to  witness  was 
upon  us,  beating  everything  to  pieces.  The  wind 
blew  a  hurricane,  and  the  hail  fell  astonishingly 
large  and  fast,  coming  with  such  force  that  the 
windows  on  the  side  next  to  the  storm  were 
broken  to  pieces.  When  the  windows  were 
broken  out  in  the  upper  part  of  the  house,  the 
wind  swept  in  and  took  off  the  east  side  of  the 
roof,  and  the  water  and  hail  poured  in  upon  the 
floor,  flooding  everything  in  the  house.  The 
water  came  in  at  the  windows  and  doors  that 
were  blown  open,  until  it  was  ankle-deep  on  the 
floor.  There  were  hail,  water,  glass,  and  plaster, 
all  mingled  together;  an  unpleasant  picture  to 
behold. 

While  the  storm  was  raging,  and  at  its  worst, 
I  was  in  a  straw-barn  with  the  horses.     During 


308  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

the  hardest  puffs  and  whirlings  of  the  wind,  it 
seemed,  every  moment,  that  stable,  horses,  and 
I  would  all  go  up  together,  and  be  carried  away 
in  the  storm.  On  going  to  the  house  when  the 
storm  was  nearly  over,  I  found  the  roof  gone, 
and  the  folks  in  the  pantry  did  not  even  know 
that  it  had  been  blown  away.  Half  of  the  roof 
was  lifted  and  hurled  to  the  ground,  smashed 
into  hundreds  of  pieces,  and  some  of  the  frag- 
ments were  carried  more  than  a  mile  from  the 
place.  The  wind  was  so  terrific  that  it  carried 
hogs,  plows,  and  many  other  things,  into  the 
cornfield.  There  was  a  new  storm-door  on  the 
west  side  of  the  house  next  to  the  storm,  which 
was  broken  by  the  hail.  It  was  a  common  pan- 
eled door,  and  three  of  the  panels  were  broken 
and  two  of  them  knocked  out.  The  doors  were 
not  only  broken,  but  the  shingles  and  siding  on 
the  side  of  the  house  toward  the  storm  were  lit- 
erally beaten  to  pieces,  and  there  was  hardly  a 
whole  shingle  or  piece  of  siding  to  be  found  on 
that  side  of  the  house.  The  house  was  so  bat- 
tered, indeed,  that  it  had  the  appearance  of  being 
fired  into  with  grapeshot. 

Some  two  hours  after  the  storm  we  meas- 


A    FRONTIER   LIFE  309 

ured  a  hailstone  seven  inches  and  a  half  in  cir- 
cumference, and  it  was  thought  that  there  were 
many,  which,  if  measured  at  first,  would  have 
attained  fully  nine  inches.  Previous  to  this,  if 
any  one  had  told  me  of  the  possibility  of  such  a 
tremendous  hailstorm,  I  would  hardly  have  be- 
lieved him;  now  I  am  prepared  to  believe  almost 
anything  in  regard  to  storms. 

In  the  morning  before  the  disaster  the  corn- 
fields were  beautiful  and  green,  and  the  small 
grain  wras  headed  out;  but  in  the  evening  there 
was  not  a  sign  that  corn  had  ever  been  on  the 
ground.  The  neighbors  told  me  that  it  would 
soon  spring  up  from  the  roots,  and  flourish  again. 
Sure  enough,  in  a  few  days  the  corn  was  out  and 
covering  the  field  as  before.  The  next  fall  there 
was  a  wonderfully  heavy  crop  of  corn;  but  the 
storm  had  put  it  back  so  far  that  it  hardly  rip- 
ened. I  sold  mine  to  a  cattle-feeder  for  a  fair 
price,  and  had  good  returns  from  the  hail-smitten 
corn,  after  all.  The  day  after  the  storm  the 
neighbors  came  and  reroofed  our  house,  and  we 
were  soon  as  comfortable  as  ever,  and  went  on 
with  our  work. 

This   ends  my  frontier  work,   but  not  my 


310  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

labors  in  the  ministry.  I  have  now  been  in  the 
good  work  a  little  over  thirty  years,  and  am 
still  at  it.  But  my  health  and  strength  will  not 
permit  me  to  do  full  pastoral  work  as  in  former 
years,  and  I  am  doing  it  on  a  small  scale. 

In  those  long,  weary  years  of  toil,  I  have  seen 
the  sunshine  as  well  as  the  cloud.  I  have  learned 
by  experience  that  the  darkest  clouds  have  the 
brightest  lining.  In  looking  over  the  past  I  find 
more  comfort  in  calling  to  mind  the  places  where 
I  have  laid  the  foundation  for  my  beloved  Zion 
than  in  thinking  of  any  other  places  I  have 
served.  Though  I  have  endured  hardships  and 
deprivation  in  laboring  on  the  outposts,  they 
have  brought  me  a  richer  reward  than  all  other 
fields  on  which  I  have  labored. 

What  a  change  has  come  over  the  country 
since  1862,  when  I  first  made  my  home  in  the 
then  Far  West!  Then  there  were  thousands  of 
acres  of  unoccupied  land  stretching  into  the  far 
distance,  to  be  had  merely  for  the  settling  upon 
and  cultivating  of  them.  A  large  part  of  Ne- 
braska was  then  wild  and  uninhabited  by  white 
men.  The  Red  Man  was  lord  of  the  plains.  In 
the  valleys  and  on  the  banks  of  the  creeks  and 


A    FRONTIER    LIFE  311 

rivers  were  then  seen  the  canvas  villages  of  the 
savage.  The  Indian  hunter  chased  the  buffalo, 
antelope,  elk,  and  other  game.  The  painted  war- 
rior with  his  shield,  tomahawk,  and  scalping- 
knife,  rode  his  foaming  steed,  hurrying  on  to 
bloodshed  and  death,  giving  the  war-cry  as  he 
rattled  on  in  pursuit  of  the  fleeing  enemy.  The 
wooing  song  of  the  Indian  maiden  rang  through 
the  woods  and  across  the  plains,  charming  and 
captivating  her  lover.  That  song,  though  ad- 
mired by  her  people,  to  the  ear  of  one  used  to 
music  resembled  the  cry  of  distress  rather  than 
the  strains  of  love.  The  yells  and  cries  of  the 
papoose,  while  playing  hide-and-seek  in  the 
brush,  reached  the  ear  of  the  lonely  traveler 
crossing  the  prairie — a  babbling  sound,  more  re- 
sembling the  howling  of  wolves  than  the  playful 
cries  of  children.  Buffaloes  by  the  thousands 
subsisted,  summer  and  winter,  on  the  buffalo- 
grass,  and  much  of  the  time  were  fat  enough  for 
beef.  The  elk,  deer,  antelope,  and  wolf  were 
among  the  inhabitants  of  this  country. 

How  is  it  now?  The  sod-house  and  dug-out 
have  given  way  to  the  beautiful  frame  residence. 
The  dug-out  and  sod  schoolhouses  have  been 


312  A   FRONTIER   LIFE 

supplanted  by  good  school-buildings  all  over  the 
country.  Instead  of  sod  churches  and  under- 
ground meeting-houses,  we  now  have  large,  ca- 
pacious church-buildings.  Instead  of  the  pierc- 
ing war-cry  of  the  Red  Man,  the  "hurrah"  for  our 
thriving  America  comes  from  a  thousand  throats 
all  over  this  vast  domain.  The  Red  Man's  pony 
has  yielded  to  the  plow-horse  and  the  roadster 
that  is  driven  by  thousands  of  cultured  wives  and 
daughters  of  white  men.  The  buffalo  is  crowded 
out  by  the  domestic  ox.  The  deer  and  antelope 
are  replaced  by  sheep  and  hogs.  Though  the 
songs  of  the  young  women  of  the  wild  West  are 
no  more  heard  on  the  prairie,  the  songs  of  our 
own  native  girls  swell  upon  the  breeze,  and  are 
far  more  charming,  as  in  our  churches  they  sing 
"Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee,"  or  "Sweet  by  and 
by,"  than  all  the  songs  of  the  daughters  of  the 
plains.  In  place  of  the  dirty,  half-naked  children 
of  the  desert,  playing  and  growing  up  in  igno- 
rance, our  own  children  are  making  the  school- 
grounds  ring  with  their  merry  laughter,  while 
both  mind  and  body  are  being  trained  for  use- 
fulness.   No  one,  who  has  not  seen  the  past  and 


A   FRONTIER   LIFE  313 

present  condition  of  this  country,  can  fully  realize 
the  changes  that  have  taken  place. 

Now,  if  the  reader  will  kindly  pass  by  the 
imperfections  he  may  find  while  reading  this  my 
simple  story,  and  gather  the  good  he  may  chance 
to  notice,  I  shall  be  gratified,  and  think  that  at 
least  some  good  has  been  accomplished. 

Well,  as  I  am  only  to  write  of  a  Frontier  Life, 
I  will  close,  for  I  have  now  tarried  so  long  in 
one  place  that  civilization  has  overtaken  and 
gone  far  beyond  me.  Therefore,  I  must  say, 
Good-bye. 


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